


The Return of the Phantom

by MistFlame54



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: But comes together in a finale, But not really that often actually, Cars, F/M, Family, Future, Gen, Ghosts, School, Superhero coming out of retirement, episodic, power troubles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 36,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23337559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistFlame54/pseuds/MistFlame54
Summary: Ten years after the world became aware that Danny Fenton was indeed Danny Phantom, and became a world renowned hero, a victorious yet devastating battle prompts Team Phantom to abandon their ghost-hunting ways and seek normal lives. But twelve years later, 36 year-old Danny finds that hero he once was may have to return...
Relationships: Danny Fenton & Jackson Fenton, Danny Fenton & Tucker Foley & Sam Manson, Danny Fenton/Sam Manson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	1. Pilot: New Names, New People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pilot episode! Danny is happy in his new, adult, non ghostly life, until an event forces him to go back into the business. Depicts his first (returning) adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea had been bouncing around in my head for quite some time, so the crazy weather managed to erode the idea into a somewhat recognizable and viable shape (like my earth science analogy?). 
> 
> The thing about this story is that it'll probably always be ongoing. It's like a TV show. In fact, the first "episode" will even be titled "pilot" (which is what an initial episode is usually called in case you're wondering because I didn't know this until recently either). 
> 
> Please enjoy and I am always open to suggestion. Yes, YES PLEASE give suggestions or ideas I will need them!

In the dim light, metal beams bent drastically out of shape, lay strewn on the ground. Chunks of concrete, fallen from the ceiling, scattered the landscape. It was a scene of great disaster, of ruin, of defeat. But also one of victory.

The grand centerpiece of destruction was the destroyed ghost portal. Once the pinnacle of Fenton Works, it was now unrecognizable. Still steaming from only minutes before running normally, half of it was crushed by a thick sheet of metal. Other parts were randomly melting into green ooze, hissing and bubbling. It was a sad sight. But also one of victory.

But the only thing Danny Fenton felt was numbness, when gazing around him. On either side of him stood his not only team-mates but also his best friends, Tucker Foley and Sam Manson. Tuck's beanie was askew, filled with holes. His glasses were bent out of shape, and he was holding them in his hands, nervously fidgeting them between his fingers. Sam's lavender eyes were wide, taking in and observing every crack, torn fabric, and smashed memorabilia that had once been Fenton Works. She showed little emotion. And Danny contemplated all this destruction, floating a few feet off of the ground, a emanating a faint glow.

They had won. At a terrible cost.

Facing his two friends, the first words out his mouth were: "I'm glad it's gone." Both of his friends looked at him questioningly, then stared back at the ruins.

Sam was the first to protest: "Danny-"

Interrupting, Tuck put a hand on her shoulder. "No, he's right. It's finally over."

"What do you mean?"

Danny drifted downward, his feet now touching the floor. "The portal has been the bane of our existence for years," he quietly explained. "It was time for it to go."

Sam shook her head. "I understand it was the only way, but don't you realize what this means? Our only way to the Ghost Zone; it's gone. It was everything we've ever done, stood for, and now it's over. The blueprints, the portal, it's all gone. It will never come back."

Tuck removed his hand from Sam's shoulder, crouching down to pick something up. It was a piece of the Specter Deflector, the green bulb in the center cracked. Looking down at it, he delicately traced a finger over the cracks.

"Maybe it's a sign." he stated. "Maybe it's time for us to move on."

"You can't just say that Tuck!" Sam protested. "For us, maybe, but what about Danny?" She glanced back at Danny, who looked at her, and he lowered his gaze. Sam's eyes widened in shock. "You'd be willing to, to give up half of yourself, just like that?" She snapped.

Danny's eyes narrowed. "I'm not just defined by _halves_." At this remark, he transformed back into his human self, a light blue glowing ring briefly enclosing his body. His black hair, pale skin, and blue eyes were a sharp contrast to his tanned, muscular, white-haired and green-eyed ghost form. "I'm still _me_ , whether I appear as a ghost or not."

Sam rolled her eyes, but he noticed that she was tearing up. Slowly, as if he were cornering a frightened animal, he circled her with his arms. She stiffened, then relaxed into his embrace. Her long dark hair, normally put half up in a small ponytail on top of her head, had come undone, cascading onto her shoulders, covering the torn fabric and cuts. Danny had never seen her this vulnerable in a long time.

"Sam," he whispered into her ear, "Things have always been changing. It's time to start a new chapter in our lives. It's what we've been waiting for." Sam squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a sob. "What will never change it that we're always going to stand together."

The trio stood gazing at the destroyed portal for what seemed like hours longer, but it may have only been a few seconds. Then, slowly, Danny turned around and walked out, still holding Sam tightly, and Tuck slowly followed behind, the broken Specter Deflector left on the ground where he had found it.

It had been ten years since they had first become Team Phantom. Now those years were over.

**12 Years Later**

7:00 am. The alarm blaring, 36 year-old Danny swatted at the alarm, missing multiple times before finally hitting the OFF button. Slowly sitting up and stretching, he kissed his wife tenderly on the cheek before swinging himself off their bed.

After quickly taking a shower, brushing his teeth, and getting dressed, he arrived in his eleven-year-old son's room at promptly 7:10 am and shook him awake. Groaning, Jackson rolled over in his bed.

"Why can't the weekend be longer?" he complained.

"Good morning! Rise and shine!" Danny responded cheerily, tussling his dirty blond hair. Leaving his son sitting up and blinking, he walked down the hall to the kitchen, and saw Sam drowsily making herself a cup of green tea, her short black hair in an uncombed mess. She teasingly played with his short goatee, twirling it around in her fingers.

"What inspired you?" she questioned. Danny shrugged. In his high school and even college years he would have been repulsed at the suggestion of ever growing a goatee, as it reminded him an awful lot of a Fruit-Loop he used to know and loathe. But, on a whim, he decided to grow it. Why not? He didn't know him anymore.

"I guess I was just in the mood for something new," he answered. Crossing over to the toaster oven, he put in a couple of slices of cinnamon-raisin toast. "Let me know how your presentation goes," he added. "It's going to be a hit, I know it!"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "I hope so," she remarked, now with brightness to her eyes after having her first sip of tea. "I worked my butt off to get those darn swans perfect." Sam was one of the head artists in a local counselling company, selling their artistic ads to a variety of magazines around the county. She had never thought of herself as an artist until a friend of hers had commented on one of her doodles during a meeting, when she had been an assistant at an elementary school, and recommended her to the company she worked at today. Now in her free time, she honed her artistry skills, painting with watercolor, sketching, and she had recently taken up sculpting. She mainly did distorted human figures, painted in glassy dark colors, a tribute to her goth days.

The ad in question, a dazzling picture of two swans in a bright blue pond, was for catching people's eye. Besides, everyone needed counselling these days.

Combing through her messy hair, she smiled at Danny. "Will you get Lily up?" she asked Danny. "She usually doesn't sleep in this late. She went to bed at 7:30 last night." Nodding, he walked down the hall, turning into a room on the right.

Upon turning on the light, his eyes attuned to bright sky-blue wallpaper, complete with puffy white clouds, hot-air balloons, planes, and even a couple of hang gliders. He craftily snuck up to the crib, taking care not to be seen, then popped up with a grin on her face. He frowned. Peering down into the crib, Lily was absent.

A cold feeling of fear began to form in the pit of his stomach. He quickly looked around the room, but to no avail. She was nowhere to be seen. He started to feel the first signs of panic. Glancing down, he literally sagged with relief. A chubby foot poked out from under the crib, and he could hear soft snores coming from below. He was surprised he hadn't heard her before.

Crouching down, he tickled the bottom of her foot. Lily stirred, then started to giggle. Smiling, she wriggled out from under the bed and sat up. She was a spitting image of a 2-year-old Sam, complete with the dark black hair and pale complexion, except for her bright blue eyes, which resembled his own.

"Daddee!" she exclaimed. Danny kissed her on her forehead and gave her an Eskimo kiss, which she giggled at, then sneezed. Danny was sure of it now. Lily must have climbed out of her crib in the middle of the night, then was too tired to crawl back into her crib, instead finding it more comfortable to sleep beneath. He could relate. The carpeted floor _was_ pretty soft. Picking her up, he placed her onto the changing table they had in her room, and after that was finished, carried her out into the kitchen. Jackson was finally up and dressed now, quickly shoveling in some cereal.

"Think about your food, Jackson!" Sam called from where she was putting butter on the toast. Jackson ignored her, consumed by a graphic novel. Sam put down the toast then snatched the book away.

"Jackson, if you don't slow down you'll never digest your food properly! It deserves some appreciation!" she scolded, and she watched him as he slowly ate the last few bites in his bowl. After brushing his teeth, and exchanging goodbyes, Danny, Lily, and him all piled into the van, while Sam slid into her small car. Danny dropped Lily off at daycare, Jason off at the middle school, then drove to his job at the high school. The Feltons had started their day.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After leaving the ruins of Fenton Works, Danny and Sam got married, a very private event, only inviting close family and friends. They not only said their wedding vows, but also vows to leave their ghost-hunting lives behind. With the help of Tucker, they had found a small, rural town in Virginia known as Laurel Copse. It not only was little informed about news most of the time, but it had never had any incidents with ghosts. They assumed fake identities, changing their last name to Felton, so it still sounded slightly familiar, but it wasn't Fenton.

According to the world, Danny Phantom was in Antarctica, studying with a group of world-renowned scientists to map out all of Antarctica, since he had the ability to survive in extremely cold temperatures. Tuck had even figured out a way to send monthly updates on their "progress," reassuring the world the Team Phantom was still in Antarctica, changing the world. And the entire world had remained fooled for twelve years.

Jack and Maddie Fenton had rebuilt Fenton Works on a vacant lot across from where their old home was destroyed in the explosion of the ghost portal. They still invented gadgets, but no longer built ghost-fighting technology, as far as anyone knew. They instead focused on inventing useful defense technologies and machines for the disabled, modifying their previous ghost-themed inventions to fit these new roles. In the letters then sent Jackson and Lily, they were "Grandma and Granpa Felton," always going on about how much they loved their grandchildren, sending little gifts and money, or they brought them when they visited. Though gossip spreads quickly in small towns like Laurel, they always managed to keep a low profile going in and out.

Jazz had graduated from Yale at the top of her class, getting various other degrees in molecular biology, cell genetics, behavioral biology, and even created her own majors at times.

Now a professor at Brown University, she still made time from her busy schedule to undergo various research projects, and of course visit with her brother's family. She never settled down with anyone, which saddened her at times, thinking about the direction her life could have gone in. But she was fiercely committed to her job, and pushes those thoughts aside.

And then there was Tucker. Loyal to his friends always, he was always there to help. But he had ambitions too. Now, he was currently one of the representatives in the House of Representatives for Nevada. Though they didn't see him much, he was always in touch with the Feltons.

Danny and Sam adjusted pretty quickly to their new lives in Laurel Copse. Thanks to the wonders of online college degrees, Danny quickly landed a job as the engineering teacher at Laurel Copse High School, which satisfied him since it bore similarities to being an astronaut; being so, his favorite class to teach was Aerospace Engineering. A year later, Jackson was born, and their lives took a new turn. It was even more altered with Lily's birth, even being nine years later.

Most importantly, it had been twelve years full of new beginnings. Danny hadn't gone ghost in twelve years, and all Team Phantom's adventures were a distant memory. And he was happy.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Driving into the teacher parking-lot, Danny pulled over to his assigned numbered parking-space. To his annoyance, parked there was a beat-up yellow punch buggy with an "I Love My Yorkie Poo" bumper sticker on the right side and a Carolina Panthers bumper sticker on the left. Both were scraped and faded.

He tried not to let it get to him. But no matter how many times he informed her, a couple of weeks later Mrs. Witherspoon would start parking in his parking-space again. It made no sense why she wouldn't park in her own space. Her parking-space was one of the larger ones, and it was right by the door closest to her classroom, making it extremely convenient to park there.

In fact, his parking space was smaller and farther away from her classroom. He always ended up parking in her space, but it was on the opposite side of the school from the engineering and mathematics hallway. He wanted to believe that she was just a confused old lady, but he couldn't help but feel that she was out to get him sometimes.

One day his secondary engineering class was making a small solar-powered car, and later he heard Mrs. Witherspoon had complained to the principal that the noise was disturbing her World History class.

Not only were solar powered cars silent, but in their hallway where they tested them was downstairs, while all the History and English classes were upstairs. He also heard later that day that her classes were all just watching a documentary.

She really unnerved him, Mrs. Witherspoon. During his planning period, which was, unfortunately, the same period as hers, she'd walk down the engineering hallway clacking in her heels and peer into his classroom, with her unruly gray curls and rectangular glasses perched on her long nose. Sometimes he would act like he wasn't creeped out by her spying, but inside he was.

However, most of the time he enjoyed being a teacher. He never thought he'd be a teacher, imagining becoming a Mr. Lancer, exclaiming literary classics whenever he was surprised or upset, but being an engineering teacher was actually pretty cool. He got to be a little more lax with the rules with the students, mainly because most of them were really focused anyway, and the program was county-funded to bring out more engineers from their district.

Today was going to be a test day. The engineering program gave its own pretests, midterms, and final exams, and were the loathe of teachers and students alike. But it was mandatory. Expecting apprehensive and bored faces, Danny was surprised to see many of the students chattering excitedly as they walked in, many not taking their seats.

"Just tell me what you were doing with her," one tall blond boy stated loudly, his hands clenched into fists. He was talking to a Hispanic boy, who was sitting in his seat surrounded by many onlookers. His name was Tony Gonzalez Coracan, and the irritated blond's name was Nicholas (Nick) Souza. Neither of them talked much, but were mutual friends.

A couple of Nick's closer friends were standing behind him, in support. Tony's friends, a couple standing, were on the defensive, his best friend, Khai Wooters, an African-American kid with short bleached dreadlocks, having a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know what you're talking about," responded Tony cockily, but Danny could tell there was genuine confusion in his voice. Danny didn't want this to escalate further, so he stood up.

"Alright guys, take your seats before the bell rings. We have a test to take, remember?" he announced.

Nick glared at Tony one last time before shuffling away from Tony, muttering under his breath as he sat down. Then everyone stood up again for the Pledge of Allegiance. Danny noticed Nick glaring menacingly at Tony for the whole of the morning announcements, with Tony looking away nervously. He thought he should probably talk to them later on after the test. Normally Nick was more approachable, but he had a stony silence about him all morning.

The students logged onto their computers, beginning the test. His first period was all boys, but his other periods all had at least one girl in them. The school had been working hard on trying to incorporate girls in the program, since they rarely were "interested" in or "had time in their schedules" for engineering. Sitting at his own desk, Danny started grading some scale drawings. Everyone worked in silence.

Listening to the hum of the computers and the occasional clicking of the mouse or typing, Danny didn't notice the lights, which started to glow slightly brighter for a brief moment, flicker, until suddenly the entire room went pitch black. Some boys let out gasps of surprise as their computer screens blacked out. The classroom became alive with chatter at once.

"Hey, it's just power going out." Danny told them. "I'm going to check with the other teachers." Since there were no windows in the classroom because of the computers, the best thing Danny could do was open the door.

Most of the boys used the flashlight on their phones, anyway. After talking with the other teachers in the hallway, Danny found that no one else knew what was going on, either. There was no construction on the power lines, and, oddly enough, the entire town was out of power, but not anywhere else.

Danny thought this might also be a good time to investigate the tensions going on between Tony and Nick. Running his hand through his hair exasperatedly, he re-entered the classroom. He was going to talk to Nick first, but Nick wasn't in the classroom.

He was annoyed when some of Nick's friends informed him that Nick went to the bathroom. Normally Danny didn't mind too much when kids just got up and went during class, but since the power was out, it was slightly different. So, he decided to talk to Tony first instead.

"Hey, Tony, can you step outside for a sec?" he asked. Tony looked up at him, only his brown eyes visible in the dark.

"Uh, sure?" he responded. Upon leaving the classroom, Tony looked nervous in the half-light.

"You wanna know what's going on with me and Nick, right?" he said, tilting his head, looking up at Danny.

"Well, you don't have to tell me everything, but I just want to know what's got him so agitated."

Tony scratched his head. "That's the thing. I don't really know." his expression was very confused. "My friends all say that I flirting with his girl Leslie last night, but I wasn't!" Danny raised an eyebrow.

Tony continued: "I wasn't even out last night. I was helping my mama plant the garden (she makes me stay home one night a year to do it with her), and sure, I wanted to be out having fun, _not_ _messing with Leslie, of course_ , but instead I being responsible!"

Danny held up his hands. "Okay, okay, I believe you. But why would Nick think that you were?"

Tony shrugged. "I dunno. I guess Leslie told him it was me just to make me look bad or something."

Turning toward the hallway, Danny could see a figure running down the hallway towards them. As he got closer, they both realized it was Nick, returning at top speed from the bathroom.

And that was fast, considering he ran cross-country. Closer still, Danny suddenly realized what was about to happen. Nick was going to pick a fight with Tony right now. He must have been in the bathroom practicing his punches.

Though Nick was a big guy, Danny never thought he'd be the one to throw a punch at someone. He wasn't a bully, and he didn't hate Tony. It was crazy to think that he could be that enraged about his girlfriend.

_Then again,_ Danny thought, _if someone was messing with Sam, I'd be pretty furious too._

Right before Nick reached them, Danny quickly stepped in between him and Tony. He heard Tony's exclamation of protest, something about how he could defend himself, then Nick was upon them. To their shock, Nick completely ignored them and dashed into the classroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

Quickly another student let them in, but by that time Danny was pretty angry.

"Nick, would you _kindly_ explain what that was all about?" Danny said sarcastically.

Then he noticed Nick huddling in the corner, shaking like a frightened child, hugging his knees to his chest.

"Dude what's wrong?" Questioned one of his friends. His gray eyes wide, Nick blubbered like a baby, sweat trickling down across his brow. Danny crouched down in front of Nick, very concerned. _Why was he so terrified?_

"Nick, what's going on?" Danny said, lowering his voice. Nick tilted his head head and looked at him fearfully.

"It w-was, was a, a..." he stammered. 


	2. Pilot Part 2:...And The Return of Old Ones

A... what?" The entire class was silent, all gathered around Nick in the dark just as they had been surrounding Tony when the power was still on. Noticing this, Nick took a deep breath, and calmed down. Mustering a shaky smile, he sat up and shook his head.

"It, it was so stupid." he muttered, blushing. "It was all a big prank." Now he stared directly at Tony, who shrank beneath his stare. "First my girlfriend, now you and your stupid friends played some ghost prank on me."

Tony and his friends all looked at each other. Tony shook his head. "No, no one would go that far. Not even me," he reassured Nick.

Danny sat back. "So you just thought you saw something in the bathroom?" he clarified. _I'm going to ignore that you said the_ G _-word_...

Nick nodded his head, his blond hair falling over his eyes. "Yeah. It really freaked me out." He went on to explain the looks of the creature to the wonderment of the class. "It was glowing green, with bright eyes," he described, "and it had super long green tentacles, and it was trying to grab me with one..."

Danny, for the second time that day, felt the cold feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Surely this was some elaborate prank.

For years he had shoved the days of ghost-fighting deep into his memory, where they lay forgotten in his subconscious. That it was coming back, in a place with no history of ghosts...Was there really no escape? It had been twelve years. Why now?

Shaking the fog of his thoughts from his mind, he rebuked the fears creeping into his mind. No. He had moved on. There were no more ghost portals---except for the naturally occurring ones---but he rebuked that thought, too. It was over.

Danny froze. Streaming from his mouth, and icy cold, was a serpentine tendril of blue mist, unfurling and floating up toward the ceiling before slowly fading to nothingness.

And then he knew without a doubt, no matter how much he didn't want to admit it, it was _far_ from over.

Luckily, none of his students noticed his brief chill, all too busy listening, wide-eyed, to Nick's tale. Danny slowly turned around and watched a bright green glowing ectopus materialize through the wall.

The room was now lit up with an eerie green glow. All of the students gazed up open-mouthed, eyes wide in terror. The ectopus, with everyone's full attention, narrowed its blood red eyes and let out a high-pitched wail, waving its tentacles threateningly.

On instinct, Danny stood in front of his students, his mind racing. What should he do?

He wished it was like Choose Your Own Adventure, where someone else could decide what happens next. _Turn to page 9 if you decide to go ghost for the first time in twelve years in front of your students and beat the ectoplasm out of this ectopus,_ or _Turn to page 41 if you pretend that you never had ghost powers and just cower helplessly with your students when you know you're more than capable of defending them?_

But the problem with Choose Your Own Adventure books was that sometimes you had an "in between" kind of idea of what you'd really do (Stand there and gape stupidly) but the book assumes that you're the kind of person who makes smart and concrete decisions pretty quickly.

As a kid he'd spend minutes pondering a single choice. Jazz was smarter, and she wrote down every outcome she got so she knew how to get to every single one. And here he was again, overthinking this.

 _Pull yourself together_ , he told himself. Seeing that the ghost had floated away from the door, he raced over and yanked the classroom door open.

"Everyone, get out of here!" he yelled. "I'll be right behind you!" The students needed no further incentive. Screaming in terror, everyone ran out, pushing and shoving one another to be the first out.

Slamming the door shut, Danny turned and faced the ghost. It seemed to make a gesture that said "Bring it on!" and he looked at it oddly. The ectopus rolled its eyes then, as if it were bored, fired a lime-green ectoray at him. Danny barely managed to dodge it, landing awkwardly on one knee. _That's going to be swollen later,_ he thought glumly. _It would be so much easier-_ \--

He stopped himself. What was he doing? He couldn't go ghost again. After twelve years of keeping his promise, all just to fight one ectopus? Maybe he could figure it out without going ghost.

Just as he was thinking this, the ectopus, seeming to read his thoughts, brought one glowing appendage to its mouth and _whistled._ Danny raised his eyebrows. He hadn't seen that before.

Clearly in response to the whistle, at least a dozen more ectopi phased through the wall, menacingly surrounding him. The original ectopus put two of its tentacles on where its hips would probably be, cocking its head and giving Danny a knowing smile.

Danny gaped at him. _Do they seriously_ want _me to go ghost?_ He thought incredulously. Seeing his hesitation, all thirteen ghosts started to aim ectorays at him.

"FINE!" he yelled aloud. "I'M GOING GHOST!"

In his prime years of ghost fighting, Danny could switch to his alter ego in a split second, with little effort. But twelve years of no practice put a strain on him that he could trace back to his early ghost-fighting days, when he was first getting the hang of his ghost powers.

The transformation took intense concentration, and was painstakingly slow. Danny watched through squinted eyes as the icy cold pale blue rings traveled up and down his body, leaving behind a cold tingling sensation. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the rings closed around his head and feet and disappeared.

Opening his eyes, which were squeezed shut, he stared down at himself, unsure as to whether he should feeling like he was greeting a long-lost friend or confronting an enemy.

The last time he had seen himself like this was the night the ghost portal had been destroyed.

He still was wearing his silvery ghost-armor, marked with the bright green "D" symbol. His costume was also marked with bold green stripes down its sides, around his wrists, and ankles.

To top it off, his skin was now a tanner shade, his eyes a blazing green, and worst of all, his glowing white hair (and beard) were now flowing in a ghost-like manner, almost like a flame. It was really unnerving.

But he tore himself away from his looks; Danny needed to focus on the task at hand: the ectopi. Upon glancing back, he jerked back in shock. The last form of an ectopus was retreating back through the walls it came, without putting up a fight!

Danny scowled and scratched his head in frustration. Why the heck then were they egging him on for a fight when they were just going to leave so suddenly?

He floated a few inches off the ground, looked around one last time, then sighed with resignation, and transformed back with much more ease than transforming into his alter ego.

Once again, he stared in bafflement at the darkened room, no longer lit up by a ghostly glow. What was going on?

As he prepared to go try to comfort his students, one last thought sang annoyingly in his mind: _Why had he transformed back into Phantom after all these years? And_ now _what would he do now that he did that?_

Though he wished it with all his might, Danny knew that this was far from over. He would have to take up the mantle of a ghostly hero once again, like it or not.

Overwhelmed, he grabbed his head and sat in one of the plastic seats in the shadowy classroom. He really couldn't deal with this right now.

\- - - - -

Once Danny got home, after he walked through the school's hallways, which were buzzing with the news of that day's events, and after he stopped by to pick up Lily from daycare, the first thing he did was shave off that ridiculous goatee. If he were honest with himself, it was kind of scaring him how much it reminded him of Vlad Plasmius, not to mention, now that he thought of it, Dan Phantom.

Shuddering, he banished those thoughts from his mind. It was shaved and gone. No creepy ghostly, flowy, ghostly beards anywhere.

 _Ugh!_ He felt so creeped out!

His thoughts then wandered to the school. It was odd how they were keeping things quiet around there, as if they didn't want their reputation ruined among the parents. In fact, that was probably why the administration hadn't spoken about it.

 _They didn't want to risk losing students,_ he thought with a frown.

"What's wrong, Dad?"

Danny looked over at Jackson, who had glanced up from his math homework at that exact moment and caught sight of dad's moody expression.

Danny sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples.

"Nothing much, sport." he replied, trying to give him a reassuring smile. But he didn't meet Jackson's eyes. "Just a rough day at school."

"How was it rough?"

"Just... some of the school administration I don't really agree with right now." Danny quickly changed the subject. "How was your day?"

But Jackson wasn't finished yet. That was something both admirable and frustrating about Jackson. He was very focused.

"What don't you agree with the admin about?" he asked. Danny pondered how to answer the question both vaguely and specifically enough to not arouse curiosity and satisfy Jackson. He swallowed nervously.

"Well..."

He couldn't just say "something" happened, then Jackson would be curious as to what it was. So... maybe it was time for leaving out some details, but including the more believable parts of the tale.

"The power just went out in the school today," he decided finally, "and the admin have been really quiet about it."

"They must be paranoid about concerned parents I guess," Jackson observed.

"Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking," he responded, surprised, though he wasn't sure why. Jackson never ceased to surprise him with how involved he was in affairs of policymakers.

Along with being interested in space and astronomy like himself, Jackson loved politics.

Interrupting their conversation was a knock on the door. Probably Sam, returning from work. Danny opened the door, and was met by a grinning Sam, which was pretty normal because she loved her job, but she seemed a little more excited for a different reason.

"Guess who stopped by?" she asked him. Danny peered around her and started grinning himself. 

Because behind Sam stood his best friend of many years, Tucker Foley.


	3. Pilot Part 3: Confessions of A Techno Geek

Danny was planning on heating up some leftovers for dinner, but Tucker, to the joy of the kids, brought pizza. He even found vegan pizza for Sam, being loaded (money wise) as a current representative. So many cool restaurants existed in DC!

Even more excited than Danny and Sam to see Tuck, it seemed like, were Jackson and Lily. Lily always asked about when she could see "Uncle Tuck" and she could usually count on him bringing her the latest techy toy or trinket when he visited. Right now she was too busy to eat her pizza, instead giggling and petting a robot pterodactyl which moved its head, wings, and mouth, cawing occasionally.

Meanwhile, Jackson loved to hear about Tucker's experience as a representative and the people he encountered around him.

"The representative from Pennsylvania tries to steal my thunder as the techno-geek rep all the time," Tucker was saying to Jackson. "Just the other day he got one of those plug-in fans for his cellphone, just to spite me. And it doesn't help we're both in the Science, Space, and Technology Committee."

"Which is kinda stupid, if you think about it, because _everyone_ knows those fans drain your phone battery, like, super fast!" added Jackson.

"Exactly!"

The night went on just like this, everyone having a great time. Sam, Danny, and Tucker all got to catch up, the kids were happy, and Danny was so content that the day's incidents slipped into the back of his mind. But all too soon, it was time for Tucker to leave. He had to be back in the Capitol Building for meetings early the next morning.

Sam excused herself to put Lily to bed. She quickly gave Tucker a hug goodbye, then gave Danny a peck on the check as she carried her sleepy daughter to her crib. Lily tiredly blinked at Tucker and gave him a small smile, then closed her eyes and rested her head on Sam's shoulder. Tucker smiled back, then turned to Jackson.

"See ya dude." Jackson grinned back and gave Tucker a fist bump, then went back to the kitchen table, most likely resuming homework.

 _They give kids way too much homework these days,_ Danny thought.

"Care to walk me out?" Tucker suggested, opening the front door.

"Sure."

They strolled down the darkened sidewalk alongside the house. Then Tucker slowed, gazing up at the night sky. There were a few wispy clouds, but the Milky Way could still be seen.

Danny tilted his head back and glanced at Tucker.

"What is it?"

Tucker continued observing the sky.

"You went ghost today." he replied, his voice level.

White-hot shock coursed through Danny's body.

"W-what?" he sputtered. He tried again, trying to remain calm.

"What do you mean, I went ghost today?" he accused, then paused. "I mean, how would you know?" he mumbled more quietly.

Taking off his glasses, Tucker took a deep breath and finally turned to face Danny, locking eyes with him. Danny couldn't read his expression, which made him nervous.

"I..." It seemed like Tucker was finding it difficult to explain this, which was pretty unusual for him. "I, okay. Before, no, after that final, _fight_ , where you promised to never go ghost again?"

Danny nodded.

"I, well, planted a chip on you." Tucker looked contemplative for moment. "No, more like in you. Telling me when you went ghost, if you ever did." He put his glasses back on, then stared at Danny seriously, waiting for a response.

Well, Danny knew what response he'd _like_ to give Tucker, but it would probably attract some attention and there would be legal consequences if he went through with _that_ initial plan...

Honestly, he was still taking it all in.

"How could you-"

"Yes, I know." interrupted Tucker, holding up his hands. "It's the ultimate betrayal. And you feel betrayed." He winced. _Ugh, using the same word as a noun and an adjective in two consecutive sentences. Bad move, Tuck._

He continued, "If you let me explain a little more, I hope things will get better for you." he shrugged. "Or not. But I only did this to protect you."

"Protect? Protect _me_?" Danny exclaimed, grinning in disbelief. "How on earth would chipping, er, tracking me or whatever the hell you want to call it be protecting me? And most importantly, without telling me?" He was starting to pace. "Do you not trust me or something?"

He froze in horror. "Is Sam in on this too?"

"No no no!" exclaimed Tucker waving his hands in a panic. "It was just me." He looked at Danny thoughtfully for a moment. "But that thought does reveal some insecurities that I had a feeling were probably there-"

"Just shut up!" Danny spat. "Explanation please. Now." _Before I go ghost_ again _and blow a hole in the sidewalk..._

"I'm getting to that." Tucker replied patiently, as if he were addressing a three-year-old throwing a tantrum. He began:

After the night of the end, (as I like to call it), that night, on impulse I developed a serum with micro transmitters that would register when and where you went ghost again. I honestly didn't think you were serious at first. All those years of ghost hunting, just to throw it all away? No way were you going to keep that promise, despite my own wants to end our careers.

But you did. Tired of living in Amity Park and basically a world that still saw you as the ghost hero you no longer wished to be, assuming a new identity, a new life, seemed like the best option.

What made me do it wasn't that I didn't trust you. I came to realize that when you wanted to leave Amity Park. It probably was selfish, but I didn't want to quit, even if you did.

So I injected you with it, the night before you would leave for Laurel Copse with Sam.

And I knew, for a long time, probably, you would be happy, and you would try to forget everything we ever accomplished together.

Because that night, as I prepared to inject the serum, you were sleeping more soundly than I ever had seen you before. You were at peace.

Thinking back to that moment, I almost didn't do it. I didn't want to burden you with the possibility that it wouldn't last. But deep down, I knew it wouldn't. And I wanted to be there when you were ready to come back.

Tucker looked up at Danny solemnly, his eyes shiny.

"I'm sorry, Danny." he mumbled. "I just... didn't realize how much I'd miss it all."

Observing him now, Danny couldn't help but see the truth in Tucker's statements. He never quite fit in with the politician look. He had, in the past, loved to have a say in authority, but he had always looked more at home in the old headquarters, handling the tech and coordinating their missions.

The guy in the chair.

Danny couldn't stay angry at his friend of many years any longer. He put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I know I don't really share your... fondness for what was in the past," he admitted, "But, you're right, I think I understand a little better now." he said, giving him a small smile.

They stood there silently for a moment, one leaning against one another.

Then Tucker straightened, wiped his eyes, and cleared his throat.

"I know you probably have some thinking to do about all this," he told Danny, returning to his slightly professional air, "But you know how to contact me if you... you know."

Danny held up a halting hand and nodded. "I won't." he said decidedly. "It's not going to happen again." Tucker simply nodded back, and started walking alone to his car.

Before entering, the door still open, he held up a hand in parting, and Danny waved back, then watched the car back out of the driveway, then speed off into the night, until he could no longer see the glow of the red headlights in the distance.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - -- - - - - - --

Danny lay stiffly in bed that night, Sam slumbering beside him. He couldn't sleep. How could he? 

He couldn't help but sense that there was some _reason_ he had returned to his ghost form that day, whether it was the ghosts manipulating him, or, he feared, maybe Tucker was right.

Maybe that peace he felt wouldn't last. Was he doomed forever to lead this kind of life?

Or maybe he never was truly at peace after all. That hopeful voice inside his head suggested that perhaps instead his purpose in life was to embrace the difficulties being half ghost presented him.

He let out a long sigh, and Sam stirred beside him. Still, he had to think about his family.

They never asked for this. He knew now in retrospect that it was inevitable that he'd go ghost again. He'd already concluded that after sleepless hours of just thinking. But maybe there was some way to protect them, including Sam, for the time being at least. It would be better to deal with the guilt of not telling her he was going ghost again than the guilt of breaking his twelve-year promise not to go ghost again.

He groaned internally. That sounded confusing.

Quietly, so he wouldn't wake his wife, Danny slipped out of bed and crept out of their bedroom, then up into the attic. _I'm sure it's still up here..._ He assured himself.

Digging through some old boxes, he smiled at old baby pictures of Jackson, and even older, pictures of his friends and himself when they were kids.

He wasn't sure how to feel when he saw the picture Sam took of him in the jumpsuit, in front of the inactivated portal, on the day everything changed. The Accident.

Slipping the photograph under the stack of other pictures, he pushed that box aside then shone the flashlight on the next box, which was full of old clothes. Sifting through it, he finally found what he was looking for, between some baggy black sweatpants and a ragged Dumpty Humpty t-shirt with coffee stains.

It still faintly glowed green in the darkness when he experimentally turned off his flashlight, but it was very hard to see. It was one of Wulf's sweatshirts, one that he had never worn and given to Danny one day he couldn't remember, as a gift for his friend.

Glancing around self-consciously, Danny stood up as straight as he could in the cramped attic, then closed his eyes, his heart starting to race.

And for the second time that day, he went ghost.

Despite having only transformed once recently, the pale blue rings raced up his body at a considerably faster pace, and Danny felt less of a strain.

Now in his ghost form, he pulled on the ghostly green sweatshirt, which now glowed more brightly on a ghost, and he pulled on the black sweatpants for good measure. If anyone had seen him, he now looked more like a lowlife ghost than a beloved hero. He would be able to fight ghosts and yet remain below radar, hopefully.

Floating, he turned around to examine himself in the dusty old mirror stored up there in the attic, and he gasped.

Despite having shaved it off that evening, the ghostly beard had returned, wispy and floating in an invisible breeze.

Danny scowled at it, but knew there was no way it was going to leave. He was just going to have to learn to deal with it if he was going through with this whole ghost thing, but it still made his insides feel like jelly if he stared at it too long. It was so weird!

He shuddered, feeling colder than usual, and transformed back into his human half.

To his satisfaction, both the sweatshirt and sweatpants had disappeared with the transformation, now fused to his ghost half as the armor additions in the past had been.

Donning the flashlight, he retreated back down into the house, and grabbed his cellphone, and called Tucker. He had a feeling he'd answer right away, and his feeling was right.

Upon hearing Tucker's greeting, he hesitated only briefly before replying.

"I'm ready to go ghost again."

* * *

**So... yeah! Yeah. #goghostagain, am I right? Ahem. Anyway, thanks for the reads, and again, feel free to comment! I love hearing feedback. Let me know what you think!**


	4. Pilot Part 4: Daycare Drama

The next day at school was relatively uneventful despite the odd circumstances of the previous day.   
  
Of course there were numerous whispers and stories that were blown up all out of proportion and rumors could not be farther from the truth.   
  
"Nick told me that like a thousand squid ghosts were chasing him all over the school!" one kid informed his companion. "And they were all yelling like bloody murder!"  
  
Soon everyone thought that the ghosts wanted to murder them, with blood present. And the terror only continued to build. In fact, despite the impeding silence of the school board, Danny took it upon himself to comfort _his_ classes at least, especially since they were located on the epicenter of the previous day's event.   
  
No one could concentrate on that day's work, instead silently staring at it unseeingly with dull eyes from lack of sleep from fear or nightmares.   
  
After pretending to be busy grading papers for a few agonizing minutes, Danny finally stood up, walked to the front of the classroom, and cleared his throat. Immediately everyone looked up at him expectantly. Danny knew they were eager to escape their impossible work.  
  


"We...we all know what happened yesterday was... terrifying." he started. "There's no denying that." He checked to see if he still had their attention, and though he knew he shouldn't be, he was surprised to see every eye trained on him. 

He continued, "I don't think the right thing to do is to keep silent about this. If any of you don't feel safe coming to school, or at least my class, I won't object to it. But, if you stay, remember to be brave."  
  
Wow, I didn't realize I was such a motivational speaker, he thought, again surprised.  
  
"I say this because what we're dealing with... well, it's the unknown. And as long as we keep fearing the unknown, then that gives it power over us. If we stop fearing it, then we can do a lot more things."  
  
He added, "If that doesn't help, just know that even though I can't really do much..."   
  
_Even though that's kind of a lie...  
_  
"...I will do everything I can, along with hopefully my other fellow teachers, and make sure you guys are safe. That is every teacher's (or should be every teacher's) priority."  
  
Finishing his impromptu speech, there was an awkward silence, then Tony broke the ice by starting a round of applause.   
  
"Yeah Mr. Felton! Great speech!" he complimented between claps. Quickly everyone else started clapping too, genuinely appreciative, it seemed like.   
  
Danny looked around the class and his gaze rested for a moment on Nick's empty seat. It would only be obvious that he wouldn't come to school today. Hopefully his parents could send him back soon, but maybe they were true in their judgement. The school wasn't quite safe... yet.   
  
Though what "yet" meant he still wasn't comfortable with.   
  
"But seriously, do you understand the point I'm trying to get across?" he asked.   
  
The class dutifully nodded, and though they still looked fearful, Danny hoped that they could appreciate a teacher who cared. 

\-- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
  
Danny drove up to the cheerfully painted sign of Cloverfields Daycare, which was simultaneously a daycare and a cow farm.   
  
At least it was entertaining the children who could often take field-trips to go see the cows.  
  
Though it made Danny a little uncomfortable to think of reasons to explain to Lily why some of the cows "disappeared" each year, and though Sam objected to Lily going there due to its involvement in the corrupt meat industry, she had to agree that it was a very good daycare, and the closest one in town.   
  
Staff would play educational games with the children, give them healthy (no beef, thank goodness) snacks, and you could tell they genuinely enjoyed their jobs. Lily constantly brought home craft projects and pictures, so they decorated the walls back at home.   
  
One of the daycare attendants had said the other day that they would try working with clay today, so Sam told Danny to bring a bunch of tissues and other cushiony objects to help protect Lily's ceramic creation.   
  
Danny had argued back that the daycare would probably provide those sort of supplies, but Sam had been adamant.   
  
So, walking into Cloverfields Daycare, he carried a paper shopping bag stuffed to the brim with tissues and foam. At the bottom was a pillow.   
  
Rolling his eyes at the burden, he hurried into the building, shivering. It seemed freezing outside; though it was only October.   
  
Upon entering he came to the reception area. They had a reception area mainly for safety, so a parent or guardian could show their ID, instead of some stranger picking a child up. Or, if the parent had called in earlier, a designated person could take their child home.   
  
Though Laurel Copse was a relatively safe place (until yesterday, that is), it was still appreciated by all users of the daycare, the Feltons included, how much care was put into everything.  
  
At the desk, instead of the usual elderly lady who ran the daycare, a plump, young redheaded, freckled woman sat there instead, smiling.  
  
"Are they training you as a new receptionist?" Danny asked her. She smiled and nodded, her ginger ponytail bobbing. "Well, I'm Lily's dad. You can send her out, I guess," he responded, smiling back. He was glad to see a friendly face after such a stressful day, and of course looking forward to see Lily's.   
  
But instead of pulling out the intercom to send Lily out, the lady shook her head, still smiling.  
  
"Sorry, but I can not send Lily Felton out at the moment." she told him sweetly.   
  
"Um, are they looking at the cows right now or something?"  
  
She cocked her head, still looking very amused. "Nope! No one is coming out at the moment."   
  
"Um..." Danny was starting to feel a little irritated. "May I ask why?"   
  
Standing up, the receptionist gazed down at her long pink fingernails, still smiling, but it was starting to look a little strained. "So many questions!" she squeaked, her voice going up an octave on 'questions,' almost to the point of hurting his ears. "Why would they need to come out? What's wrong with them staying in for a little while? Nothing could happen to them then..."  
  
Her voice was now starting to reach a hysterical pitch, and now it really did hurt his ears.   
  
He stood up straighter and locked eyes with her assertively. "I would like very much to take my daughter home. You understand?"   
  
Instead of getting his point like he'd hoped, she was now so enraged she seemed to be floating off of the floor.   
  


Actually, Danny realized with horror, she was floating, as she rose even higher! He drew back from this vengeful entity, and was soon pressed against the wall.  
  
A cruel smile played on her lips. "If you're so upset about not being with your daughter..." she growled, "Why don't you JOIN HER?!?"  
  
Her eyes blazing red, her red hair erupted into flames and her hands glowed with red ectoplasmic energy. Her skin, Danny realized, was unusually pale, and he mentally smacked himself for not realizing he was in the presence of a ghost.   
  
But wait a second. Why hadn't his ghost sense warned him in the first place? After thinking quickly, he figured that the cold air outside must have been the culprit. His ghost sense could have gone off outside and he hadn't even realized it.  
  
He had been so lost in thought that he barely managed to duck in time as the first ball of energy crashed into the wall behind him, leaving a smoldering black bruise.   
  
"JOIN THEM!" the spirit screeched. She lifted a hand, preparing to strike again. This time, all five tips of her long, sharp fingernails glowed red. Danny didn't want ectoplasmic beams shooting into five different parts of his body, so, with new meaning, he made the transformation.  
  
"I'M GOING GHOST!" he yelled. Being too exhilarated, he didn't think of the fact that he could have possibly been heard from the other room. But he dismissed this worry as he flew into action.   
  
The pale rings finished their journey up and down his body, and he leapt into the air to challenge this new threat. The receptionist ghost didn't seem to be shocked about the arrival of a familiar, white-haired and clad in sweats challenger. Instead, she seemed even more enraged.   
  
She fired her ectoplasmic beams from each fingernail, and Danny barely had any time to react, so he was thrown against the already damaged wall, which immediately fell apart as he accidentally forgot to turn himself intangible.   
  
Crashing through the wall, to minimize injury, he finally managed to turn himself intangible as debris fell around him.  
  
That was a weak wall...  
  
On the other side of the wall, all the daycare staff, children, and actually quite a few parents were all in the play area. Some of the children and adults looked like they were in the middle of playing or drawing, probably to keep the children calm and unaware of anything awry. A couple of the children screamed in terror, however, when their wall and only protection from the ghost fell.   
  
He didn't have time to think about that right now, even though it worried him that in the brief time he had looked into the room he didn't see Lily.   
  
Still invisible, Danny shot up then hurtled toward the receptionist, making successful contact and tackling her right through the daycare wall to the outside.  
  
Now that she was out of her domain, the receptionist ghost looked a little less confident. She glanced nervously around her, but still tried to look fearsome. She bared her teeth (no fangs), though her eyes were no longer blazing red.   
  
Danny floated down to her and put his hands on his hips, then chided her. "Why were you keeping everyone inside the daycare?" he demanded.   
  
The ghost scowled up at him. "Why should you care? You've never lost anyone." Before he could stop her, she flew into the air at an incredible speed and flew out of sight, her red ponytail trailing behind her.   
  
Danny tried pursuing her, but she was gone.   
  
Frustrated, he landed behind the daycare and scowled, too. Then he glanced down at his ghostly beard and sighed in disgust. He quickly transformed back into his human form, watching with relief as the beard disappeared.   
  
He still didn't get why that whole beard thing was still happening. At least he could tell Tucker later about his first mission. Or, first mission in twelve years.   
  
Jogging around to the front of the daycare, he encountered all the daycare staff, children, and parents flowing out like a waterfall of concern. Children were crying, parents soothing their own and not their own, and the real receptionist was already on her cellphone, probably calling all parents to come pick their children up after this disaster. She spotted Danny, then immediately strode over.  
  
Julia Romanoski's short grey hair was disheveled, but she still had the dignified air of a woman in charge. On her way to him she grabbed Lily's hand, surprisingly gently, and led her over, with her backpack.   
  
Unlike the other children, Lily didn't appear timid or in shock. She cheerfully skipped next to the Mrs. Romanoski, holding a prized drawing in her free hand. Hopping next to her dad, she handed him the drawing.  
  
"Look what I drawed today!" she exclaimed happily. Danny examined the picture with interest, then felt cold with shock.  
  
It was clearly the ghost receptionist, with red hair, red eyes, and long pink nails with a frowning face.   
  
What was even more startling was what was next to the receptionist: some sort of green humanoid figure.  
  
Could that be me? He thought. But that couldn't be possible. He was invisible the entire time? Right? And how could she have drawn that picture in the short period of time they'd been in the building fighting? He looked down questioningly at Lily, who smiled back up at him.   
  
Sighing, he asked, "Ready to go home?"   
  
Lily nodded eagerly, and waved goodbye to the Mrs. Romanoski, who held up a hand in response. She was still in the middle of another phone-call, and looking at him, she pointed to the phone and mouthed, "It's your wife."  
  
Danny got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Sam was definitely going to be pretty suspicious now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh... How do you think Sam is going to feel when Danny gets home?  
> Let me know your thoughts and thanks for reading!


	5. Pilot Part 5: Secrets? *Psssh* Yeah Right Not From Your Wife

If Danny could give one word to describe the atmosphere when he and Lily got home it would be ICE. 

Not literal ice, that was his department (ice powers, that was a long story).  
  
More like "I'm not quite in the mood for an explosion so instead I will let you know I am NOT happy with you by giving you the silent treatment and/or will be really superficial and fake around you!" kind of ice.   
  
Jackson opened the door and the first thing Danny noticed was he seemed very tense. He'd always been very observant of conflict between his parents, and hated every second of it.   
  
Danny would be concerned if he didn't.   
  
As soon as they entered, Jackson dutifully took Lily by the hand and led her down the hall to her room, making animated gestures with his hand in fake cheerfulness, trying to distract her from the argument clearly brewing between their parents.  
  
He apprehensively walked into the kitchen, where Sam was furiously chopping lettuce for some salad.   
  
Sensing his presence, she turned around, still holding the knife in the air like a weapon, making Danny quake in his boots. Been married twelve years and she still scared him sometimes. And she knew it, too.   
  
Seeing that the scare factor had done its work, she tenderly placed the knife back down on the cutting board next to a decent pile of chopped lettuce. Hands on hips, she frowned at Danny and tilted her head, giving a chance to formulate some sort of rudimentary defensive position before she struck.   
  
The best thing he could do would be to simply flat-out say what had happened, and apologize. But he also had to come across in such a way that it didn't seem like he was only telling Sam what she wanted to hear. He must choose these next few words carefully.  
  
Without saying a word, Sam pointed sharply to the door to the front porch. Basically meaning, it was a 'Let's take this outside' kind of conversation. Well at least everything was on the table now. Almost like a reprimanded puppy, head hanging low, he followed Sam's lead outside.   
  
Then came the first blow.  
  
"When were you thinking about telling me about what happened today?" She demanded. She narrowed her eyes even more in annoyance, eyelashes barely letting her eyes be seen. Which was to his dismay, because it would be even harder now to read her true emotions. It was sometimes hard to see what Sam was really feeling within, and Danny often had to read carefully to help Sam express herself fully.   
  
"Don't even get me started on _yesterday_ ," she continued briskly. "And don't try to get me to 'express my true emotions' or any of that crap. I'm just as capable of doing that myself!" It was like as if she were reading _his_ eyes.  
  
"Okay, yes, I went ghost for the first time in twelve years even though I made a pact with you (though it was more with myself) that I'd never go ghost again let alone fight ghosts again, and fought a ghost yesterday and today, Lily was endangered... what am I forgetting..." he gasped briefly for air after that long monologue. "Aaannd I told Tucker all about it before you."   
  
Jumping to combat the beet-faced expression he was receiving, he added, "But to be fair, he did figure it out before you did..." Sam reddened even more, then started laughing. Hard. Tears were streaming down her face from this unexpected bout of mirth.  
  
"Um, are you okay?" Danny asked, very concerned for Sam's sanity. Sam nodded, hunched over, trying to catch her breath, panting. She looked back up at him, grinning in disbelief.  
  
"I can't believe you just confessed all of that!" She exclaimed. Sitting down in one of the porch chairs, she put a hand to her temple, rubbing it in exhaustion.  
  
"Does this mean- I mean, are you still feeling mad about it?" Danny sat down next to her hopefully. She leaned away from him only to give him a speculative glance.   
  
"...I am still upset, but-" she hesitated. "To be honest, I'm not surprised. I understand that 'protective' nature you have. But really, you forgot all we've been through together, and didn't tell me? I think I have a definite right to know about you starting to fight ghosts again."  
  
"But you're not mad about me breaking the pact?"  
  
She laughed and poked him teasingly. "Like you said, that was your pact. But I am concerned now that we have kids and all..." she frowned a little bit. Before she could finish, a loud buzzing sounded from her back pocket. She was going to ignore it.  
  
"I think you should answer that," Danny told her with a mysterious smile. Pulling out her phone, Tucker's contact glowed on the screen.   
  
FaceTime.   
  
"This is about the time I estimated you'd find out about Danny going ghost again," Tucker immediately informed her as soon as she answered. He grinned knowingly at them, looking at each in turn.  
  
"We can't just jump right back into this," Sam protested, though Tucker's light-hearted demeanor was softening her judgement. "What about Jackson and Lily?"  
  
"Already taken care of," Tucker replied. "I'm backing out of the election race in November-" he was interrupted by horrified exclamations from both of his audience members- "hear me out, so I can spend more time with you and the kids. I've had enough of politics for a long time." He ran a hand through his short hair. "The gray is coming in."   
  
"Tucker..." Sam sighed softly, amazed. "You didn't have to do all this..."  
  
"Yes I did." He retorted. "Ghosts are returning, based on the past two days alone. It's time to go back in business, before we're ambushed by a plethora of ghosts. Trust me, it'll be like we never stopped!" Sam and Danny looked at one another, Danny hopeful, Sam skeptical. But even she couldn't contain the excitement that was starting to build inside her. She allowed a small smile.  
  
"I guess..." Tucker whooped and Danny laughed in spite of feeling tense.   
  
"But Jackson and Lily are to be told nada. Zip. Period." She commanded. Danny raised an eyebrow.  
  
"What happened to 'having a definite right to know?'" He teased.  
  
"You know that this is completely different." She growled. "I'm not one for secret keeping, but I'm not ready to tell our kids that their dad is a famous halfa whose been inactive for twelve years."  
  
"Hey don't get all mad at me about the past now," Danny protested. Sam shook her head.  
  
"It's in the past," she sighed. Shyly she grabbed his hand, and their fingers intertwined. They fit perfectly together. And they smiled finally, at each other. Now Tucker sighed, in a wistful, dramatic way.   
  
"I'll leave you two lovers alone now." He hung up, one last image of his face, cheerful yet tired, briefly remained on the screen then flipped to black.

Danny's face was serious as he looked at Sam. "So, you want to do this?" He asked gravely. "I-it'll be a big difference in our lives, and we'll have to deal with any consequences ghost fighting entails-"

Sam shushed him, hand clapping over his mouth. "Stop right there," she interrupted, mouth twisted into a wry smile. "before you change my mind and make me think about what we're doing." Standing up, she offered her left hand, the one that wasn't intertwined with her husband's. Without hesitation he took it, and she pulled him into a passionate kiss.

Finally pulling apart, they gazed into one another's eyes. He loved her so much. How did he ever deserve or meet someone like her?

Despite knowing they were jumping into this blindfolded, as long as he had the ones he cared about most by his side, Danny knew things were going to turn out good in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So I think I'm starting to come up with a system from here on out.
> 
> These first five chapters are what I'm referring to as the "Pilot" episode, if this was a TV series. Anyhow, the next "episode" will be starting with the next chapter, so make sure you buckle your seat belt and hold on!
> 
> Thanks for reading! :-)


	6. E2: Panic! On the Highway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny takes Jackson to a soccer game but they encounter a peculiar ghost with a vehicle fetish on the way who wreaks some havoc...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Taking driver's ed was hard. But I did learn a lot of stuff about cars that I never cared to know before. Enjoy some car problems!

Jackson zoomed past, yanking up a knee-high sock on his right foot, while the one on the left still sagged sadly. His blond hair was still neatly combed over, but his wild dashing for various necessities risked it getting disheveled. Looping the strap from his soccer bag onto a freckled shoulder, he staggered toward the door. Still struggling with his belongings, he waited impatiently at the door.

"Come on Dad!" He yelled up the stairs. "I can't be late!"

"Just a wait a second, Jackson!" Danny called back. He was standing at the foot of the bed, where Sam sat, her arms crossed. Lily played with a puzzle on the bedroom floor, but was getting a little frustrated when the carpet caused the pieces to keep falling apart. But impressively for a three year old had kept up her patience for this long.

"You didn't tell he had a game an hour away today." She complained. "I thought it could be a family night.

"You know, board games, an outing to a museum or something..."

Danny shrugged helplessly, rubbing the back of his dark hair self-consciously. "I honestly forgot about it. But we'll be back soon, I'm sure. Maybe when we get back we could watch a movie together or something." He was trying to be optimistic.

He really did want to get in some family time with the kids, before ghosts started becoming more and more prominent in their lives. Right now, wretched specter activity was low, and Danny wanted to and he knew Sam wanted to take advantage of that time as much as they could. But maybe the quality time with Jackson would just as fun.

"It'll give me some quality time with Jackson, and you with Lily," he suggested, voicing his thoughts. Sam opened her mouth to say more but was interrupted by another insistent shout downstairs.

"We really need to leave, now." He told her hurriedly, and gave Lily and Sam each a farewell kiss before dashing down the stairs.

Without ceremony Jackson dumped the soccer bags into Danny's arms and opened the door.

"Let's go let's go let's go!" He sprinted down the sidewalk to the car, yanking the door handle repeatedly, but it refused to open. Danny hit the unlock button on the keys, and the door, surprising Jackson, popped open. His momentum caused him to fall backward and he landed awkwardly on his butt. Unhurt, he quickly hopped up and climbed into the car.

"You shouldn't pull on the car handles like that, it could damage the door," Danny warned sternly. Their family van was about ten years old, a dusty red, and had been nothing but reliable. Except for the time when its one front left tire kept going flat unexplainably. The mechanic later figured out they simply had a bad tire, and it was fixed within the day.

Jackson stared out the window guiltily. "Sorry." He mumbled. Danny started the car, pulled out of the driveway, and soon they were off the back roads leading into Laurel Copse and on the highway. Soon they'd be in Newport News, Virginia, the site of the game.

It was actually a skirmish for Jackson's travel soccer team, the Eagles, but it was important for the team to play against tougher competitors to prepare them for the regular season. Being an assistant coach, Danny understood the tumultuous emotions that accompanied difficult matches like this one. The bigger city teams were better, were provided with more funding. But he still held tightly to the hope that the Eagles had what took to defeat their opponents. The head coach, Coach Drey, repeatedly assured parent coaches that this was the best team he'd seen in his nine years of coaching soccer. And of course Danny was guilty of thinking Jackson was a fantastic player.

_It wasn't untrue..._ He protested, a little weakly. Sure, he wasn't as experienced as some of the older players, but he was keeping up quite nicely with their skill level and certainly was an asset to the team.

"Jackson, you know, you're going to do great tonight, win or lose." Danny remarked sincerely. Jackson didn't quite respond. Maybe a mumble of thanks, but his attention was on the scenery passing by in a blur past the window. Ivy-strewn sound barriers were more interesting than this conversation.

Danny reevaluated his son's response. Was he being distant intentionally? And why?

Then, this brief change in his normally cheerful personality flipped like a switch, when Jackson seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had been under.

"Wha? Oh, yeah, I think we probably have a small chance." Jackson remarked, now looking in Danny's direction.

Danny changed lanes. Their exit was approaching. "A _small_ chance?" He asked teasingly.

Jackson rolled his eyes. "We're a small team from a rural community." His pronunciation of rural was a struggle. "Rurrrall. Rurrrl. I can't even say it right."

"Rural?"

"Rurrrrl!" Jackson shook his head in exasperation. "This is exactly what city kids make fun of you for anyway. How we have a 'country accent' and stuff."

Danny nodded to Jackson's rambling. He couldn't exactly relate, having grown up in Amity Park, which could be described as a city; at least in comparison to Laurel Copse.

_Huh. Looks like the oil needs changing._

The gleaming yellow icon of "check oil" had appeared on the dashboard. It wasn't a cause for worry, it wasn't red yet, but it was a little confusing; they had just taken the car in less than a month ago to get all of its components checked. Hopefully the oil sign was nothing serious. Teacher's and an artist's combined salaries didn't amount to much more than bare necessities.

The radio turned on. Danny and Jackson both looked at one another, bewildered. Neither of them had touched a button. It was some odd Spanish station, and Jackson reached over to change it, but before his hand even touched the knob, the radio switched off again.

Something... was definitely _not_ wrong. This could not happen right now. But since when did ghosts care about what Danny wanted?

In a gasp of chilled air, his ghost sense activated. So where was the ghost?

Jackson seemed a little disturbed, which was understandable because of the radio's odd behavior. So he probably wasn't overshadowed.

Then the car shuddered, and bang! On the right side, the car sagged, and Danny had to grip the wheel tightly to keep the car from spinning out of control. Jackson let out a yell.

"What the heck was that!?"

"Blown tire," Danny replied with gritted teeth. "Just need to pull over to the side-" He figured that the car's malfunctioning wasn't just a coincidence. Whatever ghost was facing them, it had deadly influence over vehicles.

_Probably a deceased car salesman,_ he thought dryly. Through his rear view mirror, a large tractor trailer was close behind him. His heart froze in his chest when he happened to see the driver's face. Pure terror. Either he was a nervous driver, or he had absolutely no control over his machine. And he was about to ram mercilessly in the back of their afflicted car.

There was only one thing he could do.


	7. Car Trauma

Heart pounding in his chest, Danny doggedly hung on to the steering wheel so the car wouldn’t spin out of control. His knuckles were turning white from the strain. Beside him, Jackson gripped the armrest just as hard, his face pale with terror. All he could hear was the screech of the car’s tires as he tried in vain to stop in an emergency lane. He gulped. The tractor trailer loomed behind the car, practically on top of their vehicle, which was tiny in comparison. 

His mind racing, there was no doubt in Danny’s mind as he made the split-second decision between life and death. He had to do it. 

Summoning the ghostly energy within him, he concentrated, willing every bone, every fiber, cell, and atom of his body to become nonphysical. All sense of touch; the seat beneath him, the brake pedal, even the steering wheel in his hands vanished. Then he willed the sensation onto his surroundings- Jackson, the car- everything. He held his breath as the car began to vanish, then, with a sharp intake of breath, he watched the tractor trailer pass right through them. The shocked look on the driver’s face turned to relief, and, after completely passing through Danny’s car, the man swerved off the road and came to an abrupt stop.

Danny exhaled, and the car became tangible once again. He’d only been holding it like that for a few seconds, but using the power had drained him.

_ Am I really that out of practice?  _ He grumbled internally. Finally, after pulling over, he hesitantly glanced over at Jackson. His eyes were still tightly shut, and Danny felt guilt and relief at the same time. He hadn’t seen what should have been impossible. Jackson, like most of the world nowadays, believed in ghosts, but didn’t think he’d ever encounter them firsthand; he never had to in Laurel Copse, VA. 

After a brief pause, Jackson tentatively opened his eyes, and looked around in amazement. “W-we’re...we’re okay!” He exclaimed, his eyes shining. Smiling wide, he burst into tears, hysterically crying and laughing simultaneously. 

“Hey, we’re safe now, we’re okay,” Danny soothed, hugging Jackson close. Jackson continued to shake with sobs. Danny didn’t know what to do. Sure, his heart was racing, but it was quickly slowing down; after all, though it had been quite a few years, he was used to high-stakes thrilling terrifying adrenaline-loaded fight or flight circumstances. Jackson shouldn’t have even realized they were about to be flattened by a truck. His only awareness should’ve been the blown tire. Danny supposed it must be scary to Jackson because he’d been pretty sheltered all his life, and he hoped that was the case. 

_ I guess I should be glad this is the most traumatic thing that’s happened in an eleven-year-old’s life. _ Conflict bubbled within him: part of him was glad, but the other part wished that he’d been exposed to something like this sooner, to make him stronger. 

After a loud gasp for air, Jackson started babbling between hiccupy sobs. “I-I’m sorry.” he sniffled. “I don’t kn-know w-why I’m crying.” This caused him to start crying again. 

“H-Hey! There’s no reason to be ashamed of crying right now,” Danny exclaimed. “It  _ is  _ pretty scary.”  _ Just don’t start crying at the soccer game if we can still make it - Hey, quiet you!  _ He needed to be sympathetic right now, not in tough superhero-dad mode. But would Jackson be too traumatized to play for the team? They  _ could  _ still make it to the game if they caught a ride or something. 

Jackson wasn’t crying anymore, but by his tearstained face Danny knew it was too soon to ask if he still wanted to play at the soccer game. But Jackson surprised him.

“I-I still want to play,” he stammered, trying to sound confident. He looked at his dad pleadingly. “Can we still make it?”

That was exactly what Danny did and did  _ not  _ want to hear. Part of him never wanted to drive again, mainly out of concern for Jackson. But the other part wanted to push through, tough it out. Still, was it that he wanted to help make his son stronger, or was it out of pride, wanting to show up to the big game and impress the competition? 

_ Well, toughing things out has never gone too badly before, _ he decided.  _ Well, there was that time at the movies… and the amusement park...and the grocery store...and the three birthday parties all in the same day…  _ But hey, Jackson wasn’t little anymore. It could be different this time! Sure! Optimism!

“Okay, let me call Mr. Reese. He probably could pick us up.” He told Jackson, pulling out his cellphone. Mr. Reese was Nathan’s dad, a fellow teammate and one of Jackson’s best friends. Danny wouldn’t describe he and Owen Reese’s relationship as a close friendship, but they had grown to count on one another for things like transport to practices or being invited to summer barbecues. He had to admit it felt kind of nice feeling like he was part of the Laurel Copse in-crowd, or at least semi-popular? 

It was weird how cliques never really ended in high school. 

Conveniently, the Reese’s were only a little ways behind them and would be happy to pick them up on the way to the game. Danny sighed with relief as he hung up the phone. There was one thing taken care of. With the cars zooming by on the highway, he’d felt pretty trapped. Next, he needed to call a tow truck to come get the van, which wasn’t going anywhere with its blown tire. Also conveniently, he found a place that could come by pretty soon. 

What was concerning was not only the uncanny convenience, but also the disappearance of the ghost who was causing all this mayhem. The now silenced car betrayed nothing as Danny stared searchingly around it, taking in its faded gray mats and scratched dashboard from years of (loving) abuse. When would it strike again? In the Reese’s car? On the tow truck? He was dying to just let the Reeses just take Jackson while he sleuthed a little.

_ Are you insane?  _ The competitive dad voice in his mind exclaimed.  _ You need to be there. Forget the ghosts!  _ Ugh. He really needed to figure out this ghost hunting time management thing.

A plan began to unfurl.  _ Maybe if there are an excess number of parent coaches tonight,  _ he deduced, _ there could be a little bit of time where I could slip away unnoticed, get the ghost, and be back before the end of the first quarter.  _ His dad voice was nagging him at the irresponsibility, but he knew it was the best plan he had. That ghost was definitely going to return, ten plus years of experience told him that. And despite not having a ghost-catching thermos on hand, lucky for him, the game was in Newport News, a city. Most cities sold ghost hunting gear nowadays since ghosts had become more public over twenty years ago, from within convenience stores, mall kiosks, and in some seedy strip malls, so he knew he wasn’t going to have much of a problem finding a thermos.  _ I’ll be back in no time at all. _

Of course, that last part wasn’t true. His ten years of ghost-hunting experience clearly emphasized that catching a ghost was never as fast as you wanted it to be, but for his conscience’s sake, he ignored this vital fact. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad Jackson decided to tough it out. I would have just cried and begged to go home. You have resilience, kid. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! :- ) 
> 
> It would also be pretty cool to buy a ghost thermos in a convenience store. Though I'm not sure what I'd do with it beside use it for soup...


	8. Take Me Out at the Ball Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like to sing along to the song, please do. Just maybe not at the top of your lungs in a public space (or at least as public as you can be right now).
> 
> Disclaimer: The song included in this chapter is a parody. I claim no rights to the original song "Take Me Out to the Ball Game."

City parks were so great, it made Danny miss Amity Park. A little. In Laurel Copse, parks would be closed and dark, and the fields weren’t always well cared for. Soccer fields would be full of weeds and clumps of dirt that were tripping hazards. Baseball diamonds would be full of weeds and clumps of dirt that were tripping hazards. Field hockey fields would be full of- okay, you get the picture. There was a lot of stumbling. Usually Laurel Copse natives would be pretty used to it, but it was a comedic sight watching visiting teams trip and their coaches bite back curses at the far from pristine quality of the fields. 

Okay, Danny stood corrected: not all city parks were that great. But at least the one in Newport News was. It even had giant lights that shone to light the fields at night, similar to the ones in a football stadium. Right now the sun was still decently high in the sky, but if the game ran long, they were covered. And best of all, there was nothing to trip on! 

When Danny explained to Coach Drey what happened to the van, he acted annoyed that he’d be short of one of his “valuable parent coaches,” because Danny had to be settling things with the auto-repair company during most of the game. But Danny didn’t let it faze him. There were more important things afoot. After giving Jackson a reassuring hug and telling him he’d be close by, in the parking lot, he let him run off alongside Nathan to warm up. 

Once out of sight of the main public, the first thing Danny did was call Tucker. He didn’t answer, probably still working, but left a message, basically explaining everything about the ghost attack, and his current plan. He was sure Tucker would have plenty to say about the flaws in the plan later, but he had to move quickly. There was no telling when the ghost would strike again. 

The parking lot was pleasingly deserted. Everyone had arrived by now to watch the game, not to mention it was a nice day to be in the park to take a jog or walk. Between two cars he found pretty good cover, and he ducked into the gap. Then his phone rang. Tucker. 

“Hello?”

“Are you insane? Or just  _ really  _ stupid?” Came Tucker’s indignant tone. Not the best tone to hear. “Why didn’t you go straight home?” He groaned. “Missing a soccer skirmish is not the end of the world, you know!” 

Danny sighed and crouched down, leaning against a cobalt blue sports car with tinted windows. “Okay, sorry. I didn’t want some ghost attack to rob him of missing a game he’s been looking forward to for weeks now.” He added, “Or make him afraid to ride in cars ever again.”

“Alright alright, I get it. But let’s think this through. I’m sending you a thermos now; I got your location, but we need to learn more about this ghost before we can go any further.” It had been twelve years, but Tucker was already flowing back into tech guy mode as if it had only been yesterday: that they were doing this for a living as young adults. “What can this ghost do? Did you see it at all?” He asked in rapid succession.

“Well, he obviously has some control over cars, well vehicles, really. The tractor trailer was being controlled to run us over, the car radio turned on, it messed with the oil and blew the tires on the van…”

The car alarm in the cobalt blue sports car he was currently leaning against went off, and Danny leapt off of it like a startled cat. He whirled around, searching for any approaching angry humans who’d be upset that he was leaning against -and potentially smudging - their expensive car.  _ It  _ is  _ a nice car... _ he admitted after turning back to look at the car again. No one was in sight.

“What’s going on?” Danny barely had time to register Tucker’s question as his ghost-sense went off. 

“Going ghost!” he yelled right into the speaker, hoping this was a good enough explanation. Then he hung up. Not out of spite (though maybe, in retrospect, a little), but just so he didn’t damage the phone in the upcoming fight. The Fenton earphones unfortunately were somewhere in storage, so he didn’t want to lose his only mode of communication.

The white rings finally dissipated, and turning invisible, he began to search inside the blue car. 

Too bad he didn’t pay attention to the silver minivan parked right next to the sports car. Defying gravity, the van floated up into the air and hung there menacingly for a moment, then crashed down on top of him. 

Amid the screeching of both car alarms, coughing from a particularly nasty hit in the chest by an airbag, he phased through the metal cages of both cars and collapsed on the ground briefly, trying to catch his breath.  _ He couldn’t be finished off this easily!  _ It was extremely frustrating to still be so out of practice. Normally fights like this were easy, and he’d be right back on his feet (or in the air) in no time. Going intangible almost unconsciously when attacked wasn’t as easy anymore. Would he ever be back in shape?

Then the real fun began. Somehow both car radios in the blue car and silver minivan worked, playing at top volume the same Spanish station he and Jackson had heard early on the highway. To its jaunty beat, all the cars in the parking strip began to rock to the beat, flashing headlights and honking their horns in a familiar song. Danny gaped in disbelief as all the cars began floating, circling above him in the air. 

_ This sucks.  _ His mind had a sick sense of humor. As the first car advanced toward him, words to the song began to write themselves into existence.

_ Take me out at the ball game… _

_ Take me out with a car! _

_ Hit me in the nuts and crack my back, _

_ I don’t care as long as you attack, _

_ Let me fall, fall, fall flat on my face _

_ Do you know what else is a shame? _

_ For it’s not a baseball game we’re at, _

_ It’s a SOC-CER GAME! _

That song was completely unnecessary. But when his mind was in attack mode -which therefore meant “quip” mode- it usually didn’t respond to reason. Only to poor jokes and puns. To the swaying dynamics of the song, the cars were flung at him one by one. This ghost was toying with him. If it really wanted him dead, it would have launched all the cars at once at him by now. He guessed he should be thankful, as he dove onto the hard parking-lot pavement to dodge a particularly aerodynamic white honda civic. 

He was particularly proud of himself that he twirled a little to avoid a black SUV zooming by; at least he still had a little finesse. The crashing of the vehicles on top of one another fit perfectly in time with each beat of the music. So busy dodging, he blissfully was unaware of the amassing pile of cars behind him, which were starting to build… something. 

\---

Jackson bounced on his toes at the edge of the field, watching the progress of the game. The offensive players on the Eagles team - his team, he thought with pride - had already scored a goal against their opponents, the Clippers. He wasn’t surprised, actually. His teammates usually played hard in the beginning, while even the most experienced team was only just getting warmed up. Their trouble was about halfway through the game, when they started to either get overconfident and stop playing as hard, or they just got plain tired. 

But right now they were looking pretty strong. He scuffed his cleats through the grass, watching the trails each spike made through the thinly cut stalks. It was great that defense wasn’t needed, but he really wanted a chance to shine. Monitoring the action on the other side of the field wasn’t exactly fulfilling. 

Then he got his chance. Bursting through the ivory and gold colored funnel of Anton and Pete, two of the best offensive players on the Eagles, a short yet speedy Clipper in a bright scarlet jersey dribbled the ball, heading straight in Jackson’s direction. He almost let him pass the ball to a waiting player nearby - he was shocked that such an opportunity had presented itself. Then something clicked in his mind and he readied himself for the onslaught. 

The other player’s face twisted in aggravation as he encountered Jackson’s opposition, and in a desperate move, he kicked the soccer ball in an attempt to narrowly pass Jackson on his right. Movies tend to depict these events in slow motion, but for Jackson it all happened in a blur. At one moment, the ball was just leaving the Clipper’s foot, the second, he caught the ball by the tip of his cleat, and in a brilliant move he had rehearsed a multitude of times during practices, he tucked the ball under his foot, swiftly spun around, and launched the ball toward Anton, who whooped as he received Jackson’s pass. 

Nathan gave a thumbs-up from the goalie box, and Jackson grinned back. It felt spectacular! He turned immediately toward the crowd, searching for his dad’s face, which clearly should have pride written all over it. Amid the cheering and yelling adults, there was no sign of his dad. Jackson knew he was probably still figuring out the car trouble, but he still felt heavy disappointment crash upon his fragile shoulders. 

The crowd began to roar as Anton passed the ball to Pete, who was in the perfect position to make a second goal. Everything was perfectly falling into place. Maybe if they scored enough now, they wouldn’t have to worry about their sag in the second half. Yet, in a terrible gut-wrenching moment, Anton stumbled in a moment of distraction, kicking the ball out of bounds. Jackson studied Anton’s horrified face in confusion; what had captured his attention so thoroughly? He turned around to see what Anton was seeing to create such confusion and fear on his face. As his green eyes widened, his face took on a similar expression. 

A colossal creature, made completely of smashed cars, towered over the parking lot. It was probably several stories tall. It raised one of its legs in a step, and its foot came down with a huge crash, echoing across the parking lot all the way to fields beyond. This incited screams of terror as the rest of the onlookers of the game noticed the threat. 

But as he squinted closer, hand on his forehead to shield his eyes from the setting sun’s glare, Jackson noticed something odd. The monster didn’t seem to be interested in the terrified crowd only a couple giant steps away. Instead, its fury seemed to be directed at something in the parking lot itself: maybe a car? Pedestrian? Jackson couldn’t tell. 

Then panic flooded his mind as he had a startling realization. His dad! He was in the parking lot on the phone right now, in the middle of the danger!

_ HOLY HECK MY DAD ANGERED A GIANT HEAP OF WHEELS! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. I'm not particularly into cars, but hey, let's ride this wave of inspiration to the very end, shall we? :)  
> I promise it's definitely about to get pretty...interesting.


	9. No Shame In Chucking Vehicles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo-hoo! Action scene! After this there's only one more chapter to this episode. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Danny was introduced to the giant heap of wheels rather well. After gracefully floating over the final flung car (it was a shame, it was a really nice silver Jeep), he was clocked in the back of the head with a tire.

“Hey- OWWW!!!!” He was actually okay. He’d been hit with worse than tires before. Rubbing the back of his throbbing head with a gloved hand, he spun around to come face to face with a seven story metal creature, his bright green eyes widening in shock. Its eyes were glowing headlights, its mouth was formed from two bent cars that smacked together hungrily, and it was decorated with a multi-colored armor of metallic car shells. Two red pick-up trucks formed its claw-like left hand, and a convertible and a full-sized pickup truck formed the other formidable pincer. It would’ve been appropriate if its legs were made from tractor trailers, but none of those were usually parked in a park’s parking lot. So it was just a bunch of crumpled cars stacked like a jenga tower. 

The emergency idea generator in Danny’s mind activated.  _ Jenga!  _ Maybe if he could remove the correct car from the stack, it would send the entire montronsity falling down. 

But before he could take action, with one angry swipe of a pincer Danny was knocked down flat. Too bad mentally figuring out a solution had to take time in the real world. He wriggled in vain beneath the massive cars, struggling to lift it off him even an inch.

_ Wait.  _ He phased through the ground, and resurfaced moments later, behind the car monster.  _ Duh. _ Again the wonders of lack of practice never ceased to amaze him. Picking a place in the legs that looked weak, he fired up an ectoray, pulsating in his hand. 

“Hey, Auberto!” Groans and squeaks emitted from the beast as it slowly turned itself around, with an expression of pure rage. Danny grinned impishly, enjoying the exhilaration from the thrill of battle, and yelling terrible quips. It had been  _ so  _ long since he’d felt this amazing cockiness and confidence that came with ghost-fighting. 

“There’s about to be a car accident!” He hurled the orb of ectoplasmic energy straight for the monster’s legs, sending every fiber of energy into its release. The monster stumbled, as the orb exploded on contact. But when the smoke cleared, the beast was still completely intact. Danny guessed he must have chosen the wrong block. Wasting no time, he whirled around for another barrage, trying a different strategy. Summoning his ice core to the surface, ice beams shot from his fist and coated the metal. In another loop around the battle scene, he shot ecto beams at the encased legs. He kicked a leg for good measure, and it shattered on impact, sending the monster’s hips into a crooked tilt.

In a particular burst of cockiness, he teasingly battered the monster’s face with a few sharp ice shards, causing a few car alarms to go off. The monster’s headlight eyes blazed with anger, and it honked the notes to  _ La Cucaracha  _ furiously, which Danny couldn’t take seriously. He chuckled, and that brief distraction was all it took, and twelve well-aimed tires repeatedly beat the back of his head. ...And he was on the ground again.

“Owww…” Now his head was really starting to hurt, and dizziness overwhelmed him as he struggled yet again to his feet. He managed to float a few inches before something hard banged into his head  _ again. _

“YOWWWWW!!!!! OKAY, this has gone on long enough. No more playing around.” He wheeled around, paranoid, searching for any more incoming tires. The monster was still recovering from its missing leg. Then he happened to glance on the ground. He sighed.

“Of course.” He muttered, half-annoyed, half-relieved. Tucker never failed to perform outstandingly. There was the Fenton Thermos, glittering in the churned up gravel. He picked up the thermos, and tucked it into his bright green sweatshirt pocket, grinning with narrowed eyes.

“You’re in a real traffic jam now.” He received a rude, drawn out honk in response. He laughed. “Ha, we’ll see about that!” He shot into the air like a rocket, hovering high above the monster, who slowly began reaching out an arm to snatch him. Luckily, though its round weapons moved fast, the monster didn’t. The next round of tires approached him, and concentrating, he turned intangible, and dove down toward the monster’s boxy head. Corkscrewing downward, he fired ice beams yet again. Putting two colossal claws to its head in distress, all the cars simultaneously honked, piercing Danny’s eardrums, causing him to swerve away abruptly.

Then the monster lost its head. Literally. Casting it aside as if it were meaningless junk, the head went flying high into the air. Then Danny’s breath caught in his throat. It was heading straight for the park. 

\----

Jackson ran among the panicked parents and young players alike, in a dilemma. Where was his dad? He needed to go find him in case he was trapped by the giant car creature. But he knew his dad would also want him to be safe. Then through the sea of screaming people running around the soccer field, Coach Drey ran up to him, clutching his baseball cap to prevent it from flying off. He forcibly grabbed Jackson’s arm, and began to drag him in the opposite direction of the parking lot.

“C’mon kid! We need to get out of here!” Jackson resisted slightly, pulling back.

“But my dad-”

“Your dad isn’t stupid. He’s probably waitin’ with everyone else where it’s safe. He wouldn’t stay near that thing.” But Coach Drey didn’t understand. Jackson somehow knew his dad was involved with the car creature; whether he’d angered it, or had caused its creation, he didn’t know, but its rage had to have been provoked by someone or something, and his dad  _ had _ been closest to it. As far as he knew, everyone else had been at the game. 

Then he began to let Coach Drey drag him away, as more reasonable thoughts began to fill his mind. There had to be other people in the parking lot, not just his dad. And maybe his phone-call had just ended, and he was already on his way back when disaster struck. _ Everything’s going to be alri- _

“JACKSON! RUN!” Jackson had never heard Coach Drey sound so terrified, nor had his arm ever been tugged nearly out of its socket. Except for that time when his mom saw someone she knew from highschool in the mall one time and she had dragged him away before they could be noticed by the particularly stunning hispanic woman. 

People around them screamed and began to run for cover. Hurtling through the air at an almost impossible speed, three crushed cars spun and headed straight for the park. 

And for them. If it were even possible, Jackson began sprinting even faster than Coach Drey, his heart beating wildly. They weren’t going to make it, he could tell. It was impossible to know where the cars would land. They couldn’t escape in time-

“Gotcha!” Jackson fleetingly glanced behind him, and his jaw dropped open. A bright green forcefield had materialized between the scattered people and the car, halting the car in its trajectory. 

“And you, and got you!” The other two cars were stopped by two similar barriers. Before Jackson could observe further, Coach Drey yelled right in his ear.

“Jackson! Are you insane?! Don’t stop running!” Jackson was forced to turn away from the scene and dash away with his coach, to where many others were waiting, including most of his team-mates. It was a small grove of trees that bordered the park, but it was better than nothing, especially wide open spaces like a soccer field. If any other cars were thrown in their direction, the trees would probably slow them down. Coach Drey finally released Jackson, and he collapsed against a rough oak trunk, breathing heavily as the adrenaline wore off. 

He turned toward the soccer field, where he could still see the glowing force fields holding the cars in place. But who had been shouting during that whole fiasco? The voice he hadn’t recognized, but it pricked the back of his mind as being familiar, somehow. 

_ Wait... _ Was the  _ voice _ the one creating those force fields? It made sense in context of what the voice had said. He narrowed his eyes against the glare of the sunset, hand on his forehead, trying to see any action. A figure with white hair and a green sweatshirt, flew past, seeming to be searching around. Raising both of its hands, which glowed green, it lowered them, and the force fields mirrored their movements until the cars rested in the grass of the soccer field. 

Jackson’s breath caught in his throat.  _ Either that was some superhero, or… _ It was a ghost. He couldn’t believe he was actually seeing a ghost. People always talked about ghosts, about the half-ghost Danny Phantom in Antarctica occasionally, but no one ever actually saw them. And now here was one, right here, right in front of everyone, and it saved them. At least he thought it did. It did stop cars from crushing them to death. And it was also fighting the car monster. A new thought came into Jackson’s mind.

_ Was the car monster a ghost?  _ He knew about poltergeists, ghosts with the ability to move things. Maybe this monster was a poltergeist with the ability to move vehicles specifically. Didn’t ghosts also have obsessions with certain concepts? He was also starting to surprise himself with how much he knew about ghosts. Why had he paid attention in particular to facts about ghosts? Well, he’d figure it out later. He had to tell someone what he’d seen.

“Nathan!” Nathan was chilling in the grass nearby, and he looked up quickly when he heard his name. He didn’t sit up, but just rolled so he was facing Jackson. 

“What?” 

“Look, over there.” Nathan finally was forced to sit up, and he squinted in the direction where Jackson was pointing, confusion written across his features.

“What?” 

“See that figure floating over there?” Jackson gestured toward where he had seen the ghost.

Nathan squinted again, placing a hand over his eyes as a shield from the sun. Then he shook his head, looking back at Jackson. “I don’t see anything.” 

Jackson gaped at him. “But you saw how the cars were stopped by those forcefield things, right?” Nathan nodded slowly, as if he could hardly believe it.

“Yeah. But I don’t see them over there anymore,” he replied, glancing back briefly where he’d been searching before. Jackson was perplexed. It had to be the sun in Nathan’s eyes, right? That’s why he couldn’t see the ghost? But when he turned back to the field, the ghost was gone. It must have returned to fight the car creature. As he looked back to the sunset colored field and back to Nathan’s concerned face, Jackson tried to relax his features.

“It’s fine.” He finally reassured Nathan, rubbing an arm in embarrassment. “I think the trauma from almost dying is getting to me.” This got a laugh out of Nathan, who sighed loudly.

“Yeah I-” he stared at Jackson, then broke off, biting his lip. He turned away, and Jackson tried to reassure him with a hug, but he was startled to realize that Nathan was crying, shaking with sobs.

“Wha-what’s wrong?” Jackson exclaimed, concerned for his friend. Nathan bitterly wiped a tear away, sniffing. His head drooped in shame, dark hair falling in front of his blue eyes. He hiccuped, struggling to staunch the flowing tears. 

“I can’t b-believe I-I-I’m crying,” Nathan responded, sounding deeply ashamed. He looked up at Jackson with glistening eyes. “Why am I crying? I’m sorry.” Crouching in a kneeling position, Nathan put his face into his hands. Jackson was at a loss as to where to start in trying to comfort him, other than to pat him awkwardly on the back. Then, in a vivid flashback, he remembered when he’d started crying in the car after it had nearly crashed in an accident on the highway. 

He’d been so embarrassed, crying like a baby when his dad had kept his cool the entire time, and he’d been the one driving. Yet his dad told him: “There’s no reason to be ashamed of crying right now, it  _ is  _ pretty scary.” Because it was. Crying was the best way to come to terms with something painful or scary, as a way of release, and to bring those who care about you closer and reassure you. And Jackson knew this was what Nathan needed to hear most right now: to not be ashamed of his emotions. 

“Hey.” Jackson piped up. Nathan slowly looked up, with a face reddened and streaked with tears. Jackson tried his best to give a reassuring smile. “There’s no shame in crying sometimes. It  _ was _ scary.” Nathan managed a shy grin in return, but he still looked guilt-ridden. 

“Thanks.” He paused, then regarded Jackson seriously for a moment. “Just… don’t tell my dad I cried, okay? He’d really let me have it if he knew.” Jackson nodded.

“I won’t.” He felt a little bad for a second that Mr. Reese was so tough on Nathan, while his dad was much more sympathetic in comparison, but at least Nathan had a friend in him. Opening his arms wide, he invited Nathan into a hug. “Come on, bring it in!” The two bros hugged it out, reforging their friendship in the process until it was as pristine as ever. They were oblivious to the other conflicts boiling over around them, as many boys relinquished control and broke down admitting to themselves that they’d been shaken by what had occurred. And it was good. 


	10. Strike For the Heart

After saving the frightened teams from falling car debris, and carefully turning invisible to avoid being seen, Danny flew back into battle, ghostly tail streaming behind him. He was glad to know Jackson was being looked after, but he regretted that it wasn’t him who was doing it. But he had to worry about that later. It was time to finish this.

He watched the monster continue to smash more cars in the parking lot, honking with glee. Danny decided it might be a good time to call Tucker again. Some “friendly” advice would be useful right about now. Tucker picked up immediately.

“Yes?” His annoyance was clear in his tone. Danny sighed and placed a hand on his forehead.

“Look, I’m sorry for-”

“For what? For  _ ghosting  _ me?” Tucker snapped. Danny snorted, then caught himself. “Don’t answer that.” Tucker quickly added, before Danny could tease him. “But you can’t just keep hanging up on me like that! None of my constituents would hang up on me like that! Actually, that was a little egotistical. I’ll rephrase that. I-”

“Right. I know. You’re right. I really do value your advice.” Danny tried not to sound too rushed- time was running out before the monster might notice him again or go after more park goers. But wait- did Tucker just admit he was being egotistical? “Tuck, I know when you’re really upset what humility you have starts to show.” Desperation started to creep into his voice. “I really need you right now, man. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” And he really meant every word this time. He could hear Tucker give a dramatic sniffle on the other end of the line.

“I’m touched; really I am.” He choked out, then he cleared his throat, returning so quickly to seriousness Danny had to hold back another laugh. After a brief explanation of the battle so far, Tucker was ready to get down to business. “Alright. First things first: every beast, no matter how ugly, has a heart. We just need to find it.” 

Danny darted downward behind the cover of the treetops; the monster had started to amble in his direction. Despite not having a head.

“What do you mean, its heart?” Danny asked, thinking hard he spoke. “Is it like some sort of central place within him that powers everything? ‘Cause it doesn’t make sense that he’d need that if he was able to make cars float separately and throw tires at me.”

“True.” Tucker acknowledged. “But if we’ve learned anything from Technus and other ghosts that strategize like him, they all operate from some central vantage point, usually within the machine.”

“Because the closer they are the stronger their control.” Peering through the branches, Danny scoped out the monster, scanning its build for any place strongly resembling what Tucker described. The beige family van that could probably carry ten people laid surprisingly intact in the area where the monster’s chest would be. Easy as parallel parking. Just needed to dodge the truck pincers and car claws. And the flying tires. Always the flying tires.

“I think I see it.” Danny told Tucker, floating closer. He was still well hidden among the trees. 

“Great. Well, call me after it's over,” Tucker replied, and though smirks cannot be heard, without a doubt Danny knew Tucker wore that expression. The last thing he heard was Tucker’s faint laughter as he hung up on Danny this time. The thing about Tucker was he took little victories whenever he could. 

Clenching his fists, Danny shot into the air and plunged directly toward the monster’s chest. It desperately tried swatting him away with first one claw then the other, but Danny corkscrewed around them with ease, his arms outstretched in front of him, and white hair whipping behind him. He flipped around so he was going feet first as he turned intangible, landing with a soft thud in the interior of the van. 

There was no beating heart in sight. No ghost to be seen. But the chill was unmistakable: as if the A/C had been turned to twenty degrees fahrenheit. Head low, Danny floated over the rows of seats until he was in the front of the car. The radio was softly playing the Spanish station. He felt like he was being watched: but not by a predator, but prey. Angrily hiding in the bushes from a larger creature it knew it couldn’t face. But where was it hiding?

Danny's gaze finally landed on the keys, which had carelessly been left in the ignition. Two green feathers hung from the key loop, as well as some miniature credit cards. Danny narrowed his eyes with a grin.

_ Got ya. _ He carefully reached over to the driver's seat and plucked out the keys. He heard a small whir, and an angry humming. The keys vibrated in his hand, and he readied the thermos. 

A tiny little ghost, which resembled an angry robot, materialized in front of him. It had gears for eyes, a rusty jaw, and its lower half dissipated into greenish brown mist. It squeaked angrily at him, shaking its tiny fist. Danny held up the thermos, raising his eyebrows at the absurd little ghost, and with one last enraged squeak it disappeared into the blue light of the thermos.

“So you were the little guy causing all this mayhem, huh?” Danny said to the thermos incredulously. He really had to stop underestimating tiny ghosts. They were honestly the most dangerous sometimes. If fighting Skulker almost every night for weeks during ninth grade were any hint at that. 

Phasing out of the now lifeless machine, he watched it slowly crumble, cars screeching weakly for the last time as they were finally crushed. He sighed. Hopefully all these people had good insurance. Maybe he could call Tucker to help out with that later. 

Rattling the thermos thoughtfully, he landed in the cover of the trees and transformed back. It was time to face his next challenge: Jackson. 

\-------

Both were silent on the way home, listening to the soft music on the radio. The car company had conveniently arrived right after the mayhem, and were booked the next few months for car repairs. Business had never been better. 

Anyway, Danny had gotten his van back and repaired for a reasonable price, so after saying their goodbyes, he excused himself and Jackson to get home. Usually the team would go out for pizza or something afterwards, but everyone knew without saying anything that getting home (and getting their cars fixed) was more of a priority. And all they’d be able to talk about would be the crazy events of that day anyway. 

Danny glanced over to Jackson, whose legs were resting on the dashboard, and gazed at his cleats. 

“I’m sorry for not being there, when all the craziness started happening.” Danny said finally. Jackson looked over at him briefly, then glanced back down, saying nothing. “I would have been there if I could.” Jackson huffed, and shifted so that he was now crossing his legs, still refusing to speak. “Look, Jackson, you can’t just give me the silent treatment the entire ride home.” 

Jackson glared at his cleats, green eyes watering. “I thought you died.” He admitted blatantly, crossing his arms and sinking deeper into the seat. 

“No. Never, I- I would never throw myself into a dangerous situation like that. I’d run in the opposite direction.” At least that was partially true. He knew most ghosts would never try to kill him. But ghosts on the level of Pariah Dark, for example, he’d probably hesitate to fight again for the sake of his family. He continued, “But I wasn’t even anywhere near the parking lot. I was walking the trails. I was safe. I’m just sorry you were in the middle of it all without me there.” After a brief hesitation, he added, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Jackson shrugged. “I guess so. I mean, like Coach Drey was there and stuff, so it was okay. So was the rest of the team. So we kinda comforted each other.” He sat up as he remembered something, and he turned eagerly to his dad. “But there was something really weird that happened, and I was the only one who saw it.” Danny started to feel worry creep into his chest, but he tried not to let it show. What could be weirder than a giant car monster?

“What?”

“Well, at one point we were running across the field- me and Coach Drey- when suddenly cars came flying towards us from the sky. I thought we were so dead, but then something, I don’t know what, stopped them. Like greenish light. And I heard a voice, and saw something that looked like a person floating up there. They were fighting the car creature thing.” His voice grew awed. “It was amazing.” 

Danny simply could nod, too numb with shock. Of the frightened spectators, of course his  _ son _ had to be the one who saw him. He was an observant, super-smart and fragile son, who shouldn’t have to learn about the chaotic and confusing world of ghosts so soon. Because otherwise he’d be asking too many questions. So it was better to give him the truth now.

“Uh, I don’t really know how to say this, Jackson, but, what you saw, those were-”

“Ghosts?” Of course he’d figured it out already. Oh, why did he have to be so smart? He must have gotten it from Sam. Or Jazz. Or both. 

“Yes. Ghosts.” Danny sighed. “I should have talked to you about this sort of thing sooner. Because ghosts are so mainstream now, even more than when I was a kid.” 

“It’s okay.” Jackson reassured him, staring thoughtfully out the window. Things were silent again for a moment. 

“Love you Jackson.” 

“Love you too Dad.” Danny smiled to himself, starting to hum a little to the song playing, trying to ease his nerves. Things had really been close this time. He wanted to bang his head against a wall, he hated keeping his secret from his son so much. If only it were that easy to tell him! But he knew that if he did, things would never be the same between them. Squinting at the road ahead, he let out a loud groan, causing Jackson’s head to turn.

“What?”

“TRAFFIC!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! That's the end of Episode 2! I hope you enjoyed it, and get ready for the next episode. I can't really spoil much, but I can say be prepared for some Sam action!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	11. E3: Life's Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the counselling office where Sam works as an ad designer, she gets pulled into a mystery: mass hallucination. But she may find out that maybe this hysteria has a ghostly culprit, and aims to solve this mystery while Danny is out searching for a potential ghost portal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! New episode! Just a little bit of a language warning here.

“EAT SHIT YOU BASTARDS!” She rained the special attack on all her enemies present. Like grenades the golden explosions took the attackers one by one, until there was only one left. The big man. Leprehcrasy. 

**_Leprehcrasy, it’s just you and me._ ** Khauna declared, taking an offensive stance, weapons gleaming dangerously. She waited for a brief moment, but the grizzled leader of the leprechaun insurgents did not offer a response, which was unusual for the outspoken warrior. 

She let out a fierce battle-cry.  **YEAAARRRG!** She charged. For her kingdom. For her family. For all the brave soldiers who had lost their lives fighting the likes of Leprehcrasy and his evil followers. In seconds the golden dagger given to her by her brother was at his throat. But as she clung to his broad chest, deep purple mist started to cloud her vision. After blowing away in the wind, she was standing there confused in the middle of the grassy valley.

And Leprehcrasy was gone.

“ARRGH YOU STINKIN’ SON OF A BITCH!” Sam furiously pressed a button on her control to skip all the meaningless dialogue her character was currently saying to herself, pondering for way too long how in Lepraka could Leprehcrasy disappear. 

“Um, Sam?” She barely looked up from the screen while Danny stood awkwardly behind her, holding his rain jacket. “We’re leaving. Having fun?” Sam made a foul face then punched the pause button with a finger. 

“Stupid game. This is the third time Leprehcrasy has made a convenient escape and it’s really starting to piss me off.” 

“Boy I bet that’s frustrating. But maybe try to watch your language a little bit?” Danny gestured to the table. “Lily’s right over there doing a puzzle.” He glanced over to the table, and the Halloween puzzle sat there, already halfway pieced together, but Lily’s chair was empty. He blinked in confusion. “Well, she was just there a minute ago.” Sam smiled in embarrassment then shut the game off, chiding herself.

“Sorry.” She grinned in earnest at her husband. “The  _ Rainbow’s End  _ games are so addicting. And this Leprehcrasy is such a- ARGH!” She slammed the console into her hand and got up to put it away, but beforehand she playfully leapt into Danny’s arms, looking deeply into his blue eyes. He seemed a little troubled, and Sam leaned back, staring at him contemplatively. 

“What?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing. Just text me about it later.” She glanced briefly at Jackson, who was waiting by the door. “But we  _ do _ need to take some time aside to catch up soon.” 

“Sure we will.” Danny tried to sound encouraging, but the slightest bit of worry had crept into his voice. Sam rolled her eyes at him, and coyly kissed him on the lips one more time before finally letting him leave. Cold October air drifted into the house as he opened the door, and he and Jackson gave one last wave goodbye, and Sam slowly waved back, tugging on her short dark hair. She played with her hair for a minute more, gathering her thoughts. 

They’d said that the ghostfighting wouldn’t get in the way of their lives, but now it seemed like the everyday bustle of work and school was getting in the way. Sam sighed, eyes half-closing with relief. At least she had the day off today. She ran her tongue across her teeth. What was doing again?  _ Right. Lily. _

Her three-year-old daughter and look-alike according to many wasn’t at the kitchen table, nor was she in her room upstairs, nor Jackson’s room, nor she and Danny’s room. She wasn’t in the bathroom either.

“Lily?” She started to get a little frantic, heart thudding with worry. Normally Lily was pretty easy to find, and would reply when anyone called out to her. But Sam heard no response throughout the entirety of her search.

“LILY?!” Sam dashed back into the kitchen, about ready to have a breakdown. “LILY!!” 

“Mama?” Sam whirled around, to see Lily sitting in her chair, doing her puzzle as if she’d been sitting there the entire time. She looked up, looking ready to cry, fearful from her mom’s panicked yelling. Sam immediately ran over to Lily and scooped her up into her arms in a tight bear hug. 

“Sweetie! Oh my gosh where  _ were  _ you?” She leaned Lily back so she could get a good look at her precious face. “Mommy was really worried!” Lily blinked at her, confusion in her light blue eyes. 

“I-I don’t...I don’t remember.” She mumbled, her reddened face scrunching up. Then she buried her head into Sam’s shoulder. Sam decided to let it go. Lily looked so distraught from her panic; the best thing to do would be to just calm things down. 

“Okay. Just remember to try not to go anywhere without telling me, okay?” Though Sam knew that Lily wasn’t the only one at fault. She was playing stupid  _ Rainbow’s End _ and wasn’t paying attention to her own daughter over a video game. Stupid Leprehcrasy. For a leprechaun, he sure did cause a lot of trouble. 

\------

Sam was reading a poetry collection and Lily was taking a nap when a call came from the counselling company where she worked: they needed her to come in at the last minute due to some new developments among some of the patients. Which was very suspicious.

“New developments, huh?” She muttered, hurriedly finishing The Raven. Snapping the book shut, she fell back on the couch with a groan. Hurriedly she planned her next moves: call the daycare ahead of time to drop Lily off, drive to work, text Danny to tell him now he needed to pick up Lily after school- oh yeah,  _ and _ he never did text her about what was bugging him that morning. She let out a frustrated huff and crossed her arms. This day was really turning out to be real great. Her inner goth was emerging. 

It was not a problem at all, reassured Mrs. Romanoski, the daycare receptionist, upon Sam’s call. They were always happy to have Lily with them. As long as they were paid, Mrs. Romanoski had added, in her usual blatant way. 

Sam was getting a whining Lily out of bed- she never liked going down for naps but hated even more getting up from them- when her phone vibrated in her pocket. Curiosity gnawed at her for a brief moment, maybe Danny had finally texted her. But she shifted the thought aside and decided to check it later. Despite the confidence she felt in her self-control, she didn’t like to constantly check her phone, it was too reminiscent of Tucker’s none-too-distant techno-geek days. She hated to admit it, but Tucker’s love and addiction to technology had scarred her from ever looking too long at a screen ever again. 

To appease Lily, who was still irritatedly kicking in the car seat, Sam gave her another one of her favorite puzzles: Perplexus, a labyrinth-like maze within a globe in which users had to navigate a small marble. As always, Lily was instantly mesmerized by the game. 

As she was dropped off at daycare, she barely looked up from the Perplexus as one of the aides prompted her to say goodbye to Sam, but Sam wasn’t bothered. She was pretty used to it. And that sense of urgency had suddenly come upon her; she really needed to get to work since they’d called almost a half an hour ago. 

She didn’t really know what she was expecting as she pulled open the glass doors of the counselling building a few minutes later, but the first big shock was how crowded it was. Patients in the small waiting area were sitting, many on edge, in the comfortable brown couches, some actively listening to stories murmured in low voices. Others sat trembling, running their hands on the rough texture of their seats. A couple sat watching their son play with a dollhouse alongside a little girl, and as he played happily, they whispered furtively amongst themselves. 

Sam was just standing there, stupidly gaping, gripping her purse, for a few seconds before the secretary noticed her presence and called her over. Leaning casually on the counter was a young police detective, who seemed to be the only person in the building at ease. He quickly held up his badge before it retreated back into his pocket.

“Marcus Rhodes,” he introduced, shaking Sam’s startled hand with a warm handshake. “You must be Mrs. Felton.”

“Yyyes…” Sam replied in confusion. She popped around the detective, addressing the secretary. The secretary, Angie, also doubled as one of the five therapists in the business. “So...why did you call me in?”  _ An artist certainly wasn’t what you’d expect to be in the middle of all this chaos... _ She thought incredulously.  _ And I’m not a certified art therapist. I’m an advertiser!  _

The secretary and detective both looked at one another, the detective raising his eyebrows in surprise. “You didn’t tell her?” Angie shrugged helplessly. 

“I simply reasoned it would be better to tell her when she got here. Especially since it has almost become like an official investigation by the police.” Angie reasoned. Sam couldn’t help but impatiently tap her foot a little, and she crossed her arms. Were they going to tell her or not?

“Mrs. Felton, we believe we have come upon a serious case of mass hallucination.” Marcus finally informed her in a businesslike fashion. 

“Mass hallucination.” Sam repeated in disbelief. “Is that a real phenomenon? I mean, I thought it was fake.” 

“Studies have been done in the past without conclusive results,” Angie ventured hesitantly, scratching the back of her neck in thought. “But all the people in there-” She gestured to the anxious patients in the adjacent room “-have all reported seeing similar hallucinations.” 

Sam was still clueless. “And what am I supposed to do?”

Marcus leaned towards her, his eyes gleaming eagerly behind his rectangular glasses. “You’re going to draw them.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like that Marcus is talking to me here...  
> Wait, does that mean I have to draw something? ME?  
> Sigh...


	12. Drawing Conclusions

Sam was inexplicably infuriated.Why did _she_ have to be the one whose day was interrupted to come all the way to aid in a police case? She had better things to do. Why couldn't they have brought in their own artist who did criminal sketches? Okay, he was out on vacation but hey, it was a very very VERY bad day to choose to be out spending time with his family at Virginia Beach! VERY bad timing.

Not mention, what was irritating was that this case wasn't quite an official investigation, due to the uncertainty of what the victims had experienced. Mass hallucinations weren't exactly a valid reason to investigate. No damage had been done except that people were scared. And there was nothing Sam hated more than interacting with people, especially ones she didn't know, and were more frightened than their own children. They said things that didn't make sense, they'd repeat things over and over, minds dulled by fear. All of that drama ignited rage from the deepest, darkest part of her soul.

At least she was getting paid by the hour. So, if she took her time on the sketches, this whole fiasco might be worth the day's disturbance.

So then it was time. To ride into battle. Armed only with a pencil from the desk, a box of Crayola colored pencils, and a sketchbook. She sat in one of the counselling rooms, on a swivel chair, knee crossed over one leg, sketchbook balanced on her leg. It was thoughtful that they furnished the rooms with all kinds of relaxing objects: plants, short bookshelves with self-help and psychology books, small stones for centering oneself, and a sound machine that could play the soothing trickling of a stream, white noise, or waves slowly washing across a beach. Right now it was playing a track entitled "Forest Birds," which was quiet bursts of birdsong echoing through a peaceful forest.

But it wasn't enough to calm the first witness. As Detective Marcus Rhodes walked her in, her shrill voice penetrated painfully into Sam's eardrums. Every sentence began with "I could not even begin to describe" or "Frightening! Simply frightening!" She only fell into a shocked silence when she noticed Sam waiting there. Her mouth gaped open.

"Oh My Goodness did YOU see it TOO? You look awfully pale dear." She patted Sam's cheek like an overly physical aunt, while Sam's insides squirmed with revulsion. _Must escape from human contact. No! Stop touching me! I didn't give you permission! AAAAUUGH!_ Her face was twitching from the strain of trying to appear nonchalant.

"No, I didn't." Sam replied through gritted teeth. "I'm just naturally pale." Why had she agreed to this again?

"Mrs. Rosendale, this is Samantha Felton. She'll be doing a sketch of what you saw last night." Detective Rhodes jumped in, saving her. People should know better: it's not like everyone can just go out and get a perfect tan. It gives you cancer! She'd much rather live a long, happy, pale life then die early from a perfect tan.

"So how could she draw it if she hasn't _seen_ it, like I have?" Mrs. Rosendale questioned, tilting her head in an attempt at subtle feminine confusion. Instead she gave the impression of a constipated warthog.

"You'll be describing it to her," Detective Rhodes responded, endlessly patient. Sam could not understand how he dealt with this rubbish every day. If she had his job she probably would have snapped by now. As in someone's neck.

Mrs. Rosendale pursed her lips in a round "o" of understanding and she bobbed her head. Then she smiled in delight. "I get to describe it to you! Oh my goodness! Well, it is quite a long story..." She immediately began to launch into a dull tale about her daily life as a flower shop owner and how she was watering the petunias when... Sam immediately lost interest, and then as she turned her gaze away she was startled to see Detective Rhodes exiting hastily. Their eyes met, and he grinned at her with a twinkle in his eye, softly shutting the door. Sam gaped at the closed door, floored by his rude yet fantastic escape.

She should have seen that coming.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Rosendale continued her story unhindered, and Sam sighed, crossing and uncrossing her arms, trying to at least act interested. Sam actually liked plants; she had quite a few special friends at home, but somehow Mrs. Rosendale managed to make her story not about the plants, but her: what particular hat she'd been wearing that day, how a customer had been particularly generous tipping her, absolute garbage.

"Uh, do you think you could skip to the part where you actually saw the...thing?" Sam sighed, rubbing her temples in exhaustion. Mrs. Rosendale looked a little disappointed at being interrupted about the new shipment of potting soil she'd received, but agreed.

"Oh alright. Let's see..." Mrs. Rosendale took a lengthy time pondering, and Sam squeezed her pencil so hard she could feel it almost snap. "Right. Now, I was going to take my bath, which I take every night. I've pink curtains with little geraniums on them (they're really quite adorable), and I use a special shampoo, as I'm especially sensitive to some of the synthetic chemicals they put in shampoos these days..."

_Yes. Enough about the shampoo. Oh my GOSH just get on with it!!!!!!!_

"...but then I remembered I'd left my book out in the shop, because on my downtime I like to read. Yes, reading, it's very stimulating for the mind. Especially in a bath. So I was about to go get my book when suddenly-" Mrs. Rosendale's annoyingly simple tone had changed to deep and mysterious. Sam's mental fog began to clear, and she leaned forward in anticipation, pencil ready. _Finally..._

"I realized I forgot to water the rose bushes one last time!" Mrs. Rosendale exclaimed in horror, her hands expressively waving.

Sam groaned and fell backwards into the chair.

\-----

Marcus Rhodes was frowning at a picture on Angie's phone seriously.

"I honestly have no idea. Where is it?" He finally asked, giving up.

Angie rolled her eyes, giggling a little. "Right here. See its eye, right there?" She pointed at the phone screen as Marcus's eyes went wide in overexaggerated shock.

"Wow, I didn't even see that." He chuckled. "I thought it was a goldfish." Angie laughed, a little too hard, maybe even batting her eyelashes a little.

"No, seriously." Marcus asserted, still looking shocked. "You know, swimming in the water and stuff. I'm really concerned about my position as a detective now. If I didn't see the duck... would I be able to see the important details in real investigations?"

\----

"So I ran out in a fright, creating such an uproar that my husband ran out from his office to see what was the matter. I told him how I forgot to water the poor roses, the poor things were probably all dried out! I was screaming so loudly it took me five minutes to finally hear him tell me that _he_ watered them-"

It had been another five minutes, which of course felt more like an hour. Sam began hitting her head with her sketchbook.

"So I finally went _back_ to the bathroom, where _he_ was waiting for me." Sam looked up at her contemptuously, pausing from her self-harm.

"Your husband?"

Mrs. Rosendale shook her head frantically. "No no! The thing! The monster! Simply frightful! In my house! In _my_ bathtub!" Sam couldn't help but snort a little.

"Your _bathtub._ "

"Yes!" Mrs. Rosendale replied with a wild look in her eyes. She forcefully shook Sam, and Sam fought every urge to tackle this crazy woman to the ground, who clearly knew nothing about personal space. She needed to remain professional or she might get fired. _They are going to need to pay me A LOT for this._

"It was in my bathtub, and it turned around, letting out a simply frightful cry-" She yanked Sam's ear and pulled her so her face was aligned next to hers, so Sam could smell her minty breath. "Rubbadubdub, I _HAUNT_ your tub."

Sam pulled away in a shock, too dumbstruck by the absurdity of the situation to even laugh. Then she stopped to think for a moment. _I haunt your tub...If that's not a ghost's catchphrase....sue me._ Surprising herself, now she grabbed Mrs. Rosendale by the shoulders.

"What did it look like?" She commanded. Mrs. Rosendale, subdued, gulped and began to recite the description, while Sam furiously sketched for about three minutes. Satisfied, Sam gripped the sketchbook and spun it around.

She was waiting for Mrs. Rosendale's confirmation that her rendition was accurate. Mrs. Rosendale squinted at it for a few seconds, then nodded, still uncharacteristically silent, which made Sam curious. Maybe all that shouting, raising a fuss, making her problems more important: maybe that was just so she could finally be heard. An encounter with a ghost, especially in this town, wasn't believable. But now that Sam had finally listened to her- enduring all the nonsense in between- and took her seriously, she was calmed, and at peace.

Sam rose from her chair, stretching, then strode over to the door, opening it to signal to Detective Rhodes she'd finished. He was back at the desk with Angie, idly chatting, but he must have had keen ears, for as soon as the door opened he was up and walking over toward the therapy room.

He glanced at the sketch briefly. "Looks good." He raised his eyebrows, jauntily adjusting his glasses. "Ready for the next one?" Sam sighed, reluctant to continue through this ordeal. But it had to be done. She nodded. The detective nodded with a faint smile, then went to retrieve the next witness. _Yes. Witness. That was the right word._

\------

None of the interviews were quite as hard as the first. Many of the witnesses just wanted to get straight to the point, which was great for Sam. Her chronic impatience was hibernating within her now.

Her favorite was when the little boy came in (thankfully without his parents, who looked way too worried for her to handle) and gave his account. He wasn't scared at all. He just thought it was someone dressed up. But when he told this to his parents, and started drawing pictures of his new "friend," his parents were concerned about his hallucination they took him straight to Piney River Counselling. He even let Sam keep one of his precious pictures:

It meant a lot when a fellow artist entrusted you with their artwork.

Now that all the witnesses had testified, the counselling office was back to its peaceful identity. Detective Rhodes, Sam, and Angie all studied the sketches, as well as the written accounts the detective had gathered from the witnesses earlier that day.

"This case is getting as thick as tahini," Detective Rhodes muttered, scratching his chin, brow furrowed.

"Ugh! Tahini? Gross!" Angie exclaimed.

Sam couldn't keep her mouth shut on this one: no one insulted that sesame seed goodness. "Well, actually, tahini is pretty great. You can use it in humus, pesto, dressings..."

"Oh I just meant by itself it's pretty disgusting." Angie said sheepishly. "But I guess no one really eats it by itself."

_Um, is it weird that I do?_ Sam thought self-consciously.

"Stop talking about tahini! I'm trying to concentrate!" Detective Rhodes snapped irritably, and both Sam and Angie fell silent. "That's what I get for making creative analogies..." he added darkly. He leaned back, raising his eyebrows as a revelation suddenly struck him. "Okay." Sam and Angie leaned forward expectantly. "I think I may have something." He gazed at the various sketches Sam had drawn, until he picked up the drawing the little boy had made.

"What's different about this picture, other than the fact that it was drawn by a different hand?" He asked them. Sam and Angie squinted at the picture briefly, perplexed. Then Angie got it.

"The green mist- er, _haze_ around him!" She exclaimed excitedly. Sam held her breath. This could very well lead them to conclude that it could be a ghost without her having to say anything. Then she wouldn't have to risk making a fool of herself in trying to convince them of the truth. But the implications of a ghostly presence in this otherwise quiet town... this would cause a lot more action than before. And make the newly reinstated Team Phantom's operations a lot harder to keep secret.

"It could have just been an artistic inclination." Sam suggested, trying not to sound too suspicious. Yet she received a bewildered look from both her companions. "W-what did the other witnesses say?" Papers shuffled as Angie and Detective Rhodes both went to grab the interviews at the same time. Their hands brushed, and they briefly smiled at one another. Sam pretended not to notice. All she could feel was annoyance at the young duo's romantic ventures. Then inwardly she gasped. Was she getting old?

"Many did describe a haze-like cloud obstructing a complete view of the hallucination," Detective Rhodes admitted, after scanning the paper in his hand. He shook his head incredulously as he looked up at both of them, but mainly Angie. "It's pretty unbelievable, but I'm getting the feeling this isn't just some mass hallucination." Angie nodded, hanging on every word, while Sam began to fill up with more and more dread.

"I think that we may be dealing with something... _supernatural_." He collectively gathered all the papers and sketches into a neat pile, and rose from his place at the table.

"Where are you going?" Angie called after him.

He didn't turn around from his path, but responded over his shoulder. "To call the station. There's enough evidence to authorize a more thorough investigation." There was an excited glint again behind his glasses.

Sam knew he wasn't dangerous. Maybe none of this would turn out to be so bad. But the last thing they needed was any unwanted attention on a town where they'd gone to live somewhat ordinary lives. She really didn't want to go back to the paparazzi of their young adult years in Team Phantom. Sure, it was selfish of her, she knew. But she also knew she could catch this ghost. Before anyone could even begin to think about it first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art 1 explanation: first one was by me... not my best but hey I haven't used colored pencils in while so that was fun.  
> Art 2 explanation: That second picture was drawn by my awesome little sister Jurnee! Thanks Jurnee you rock!  
> Other explanations: I honestly don't know why I'm obsessing over tahini. I like apples and peanut butter, but tahini jars look a lot like peanut butter jars, and they were already on my apples when I took a bite and--There you go. Now I gag at the thought of it. But Sam doesn't!


	13. A Luxurious Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam goes overboard trying to trap a bathtub ghost

Sam hurried to get out the door after finally being dismissed from work. Her goodbyes were rushed, but Detective Rhodes and Angie were too engrossed in preparations they didn’t notice. _And probably in each other, too,_ Sam thought wryly. 

Starting her car with the push of a button, Sam decided to check her phone. She held it up to her face in wonder. Danny had finally texted her! A chorus of angelic voices was ringing in her ears. 

_Tucker and I talked yesterday after the whole soccer game incident last weekend,_ it read, _and we decided that the best line of action to take would be to find a potential portal. Besides, I don’t think we should leave that car ghost from that incident stuck in a thermos forever. Tucker narrowed it down to a couple of places around town, so later today I’m doing some surveillance…_

Sam quickly scanned the rest of the text impatiently. Of course she’d be stuck at home then. The singing had turned into somber lamentation. She had to admit it did make sense, however, that the reason ghosts could have increased so dramatically was the presence of a portal. _Wait. A portal. Shit._

This really changed things, didn’t it? In fact, she was surprised Danny hadn’t been even more troubled. As far as they’d known, the last working man-made ghost portal had been destroyed over twelve years ago in that final, devastating battle that had nearly ended the world but instead had ended their team. But now that there was the possibility of another portal, it raised multiple disturbing questions about _who_ could have built it. 

And why? Why would someone build a portal, especially so close to where _they_ lived? A cold feeling of dread was starting to grow in her chest. Her breathing was ragged. She needed to calm down, before this became a full blown panic attack. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes and centered herself, a strategy she’d learned from a traveling monk when Team Phantom had been in the Himalayas investigating yeti activity years ago. It involved meditation, clearing one’s mind, casting away all stress and anxiety. She was still pretty uptight and needed to be in control, but any strategy helped. 

Okay. Now she needed to focus on the present. Capturing that ghost. Who haunted bathtubs. 

She backed out of the parking lot, and as she drove to pick up Lily, since she knew Danny would probably be returning late that night, she pondered about the best time to begin her search. Definitely not with Lily and Jackson home. She couldn’t ask Jackson to watch Lily when he probably had homework to do.

_Dang it!_ She slapped the steering wheel angrily, gritting her teeth. Jackson also had soccer practice that evening. Now she really wanted to punch her husband. He was really leaving her with a lot tonight. 

Did he even think at all?

\-------

Sam literally was pacing. Lily was eating dinner (and doing a puzzle at the same time), luckily oblivious to her mother’s aggravation, but was suffering her own frustrations as she tried to gather some peas on her fork. In spite of herself, Sam managed a smile as she walked over to correct Lily’s mistake. 

Jackson was still at practice; there was no promise Danny would be back in time to pick him up, so in about an hour Sam would drive over to the park to pick him up. Yet worry kept creeping up, hiding in the corners of her mind. Worry about Danny: what if he’d gotten into something really big, and was in danger right now? What if Jackson, alone and unprotected, at the park, was attacked? What then? 

She walked back aimlessly into the kitchen area, staring numbly at the sink. Despite her tough exterior, and seeming like she had it all together, sometimes Sam wanted to fall onto her knees and cry. Usually she relied on Danny for times like these, but now she was alone. She hated feeling so powerless. She couldn’t do anything. She-

And of course her saving grace came along just in time. Her brilliance. They had their own bathtub, didn’t they? If she caught the ghostly nuisance in their own home, where she was in control, then one less problem would be plaguing her. Tucker had dropped off some ghost hunting equipment that past weekend, so while Lily finished eating her peas (with a spoon) Sam hurried to pile everything in their inventory on the counter.

One thermos. A pair of Fenton blasters. And the Fenton phones. She snatched those right away, blissfully putting them on her ears. Oh, how she’d missed those retro earrings. It may not be much compared to the Golden Age of Team Phantom, but she’d never felt more ready, gripping the thermos in one hand, and the blaster firmly on her wrist. 

This had never felt more right.

“Mama?” Lily was staring at her mother in wonder, peas dropping one by one off her dangling spoon. “What’re you wearing?” 

Sam grinned sheepishly at her daughter, twirling the Fenton phones in her ear. “Just some special earrings.” 

Lily looked at her for a moment longer, then went back to eating her peas. “‘Kay.” 

\------

After Lily was tucked in and fast asleep, and Jackson up in his room doing homework after being picked up, Sam hung about the bathroom door for a long time. Lily and Jackson would be fine as long as they stayed in their bedrooms. A ghost’s obsession meant it would stay as close as possible to its object of obsession. And none of the witnesses ever reported the bathtub ghost giving chase beyond the bathroom. 

With a grunt of determination, she kicked open the bathroom door, which squeaked in response. The dark tile on the floor and walls betrayed nothing in the cavernous room, except to give the room an even colder, more sinister feeling. 

The lights remained off. That way, the ghost wouldn’t be discouraged from manifesting itself in the light. Hand trembling, Sam fingered the light blue curtain veiling the bathtub, barely touching it. Then in one violent motion she whipped them back.

There sat the empty porcelain bathtub. 

Sam mentally kicked herself. Of course it would be. She wasn’t going to magically summon the specter just by hanging out by the bathtub. She needed to give him a reason why her bathtub was superior to the rest of Laurel Copse’s. 

He’d liked Mrs. Rosendale’s fancy shampoo, right? Well some all natural tea tree shampoo would have to satisfy him. Slamming the container on the side of the tub, she also forcibly twisted the knob all the way to hot. Why not make it nice and steamy?

Now for some mood lighting. Dozens of mismatched candles lay forgotten in drawers and cabinets around the house. Placed artistically, the candles of varying light gave the bathroom an eerie glow. The tub was full of steamy, foamy water, as she had added a bath bomb at the last minute on an impulse. 

It did kind of look inviting. Anyway, the bathtub pervert probably wouldn’t be showing up tonight. Surely he was aware that _this_ house wasn’t the safest place for an unsuspecting ghost. 

So she began to undress. But before she could get her shirt off, she felt a chill swirl around the room. Grinning maniacally, she faced the bathtub, readying her choice weapons. 

A glow emanated from behind the curtains, which had been opened moments ago. _How dramatic._ Sam wasn’t at all worried now. Exhilaration pumped through her, mind wild with preparation for battle. Oddly enough, now she thought of Khauna, the leprechaun warrioress, ready for the final fight with Leprehcrasy, the enemy of her people, who had evaded her for far too long. 

She bent low, primed for the charge. Breathe in, breathe out. 

“YAAARRGGG!!!!” Like a ninja she leapt into the curtain. Water splashed about as she fired blindly, bright green blasts burning holes into the curtain and bouncing off the walls. Her victim yelled with shock and the first red flag came as he flailed around in the curtains, not like a ghost, but a person. 

And he didn’t even say “Rubadubdub, I haunt your tub!” She finally stopped firing her blasts and peeled away the curtain.

“DANNY?!? WHAT THE HELL?!?!” Like a wounded deer her husband stood there, face taut with terror, fists pulsating with green ectoplasmic energy. He gaped at her.

“Sam?” He sagged with relief, then changed back to human form. Soaking wet, and just plain adorable in his bewilderment, Sam thought. Then she remembered she was angry at him. For obvious reasons.

She shoved him over and he fell with a splash into the water, getting even more drenched in the process. “Why the heck are you in the bathtub?” 

Danny sputtered, shaking water from his head. “I-I uh, got home, and heard the bath running...so I thought I could surprise you?” Saying that aloud even made him realize how stupid that sounded. Still wide-eyed, he relayed his regrets. “Yeah, that probably wasn’t the best idea…”

Sam laughed bitterly. “Yeah, no kidding! I was worried sick about you out there, not to mention I was trying to ambush a bathtub ghost-” 

Danny sprang up, knocking the shampoo into the tub. “Wait, you were trying to catch a ghost? By yourself?”

“Says the man who was trying to find a ghost portal by himself.”

“But-” Then Danny started, staring at her incredulously. “Did you say _bathtub_ ghost?”

Sam shrugged. “It shouldn’t be surprising. After all there’s the Box ghost, Lunch lady ghost…”

Danny chuckled. “What, does he have a catch phrase too, like-”

“ _Rubadubdub...I haunt your tub…”_

Sam raised her eyebrows, impressed. “You know, that’s probably exactly what he sounds like. Huh!” Then she saw Danny’s eyes go wide, and he quietly pointed behind her.

“That wasn’t me…” 

The bathwater churning around their ankles was a bright green, and the cool mist that had suddenly materialized had the choking stench of decay. And clogged sewage pipes. Hovering fearsomely behind them, blank red eyes gaping, dark gash of a mouth hanging open, the ghost who had been plaguing all bathtubs, great and small, announced its presence with a low moan.

_“I...haunt...your...TUB!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I spell "luxurious" right? Also: AAH! Ghost!


	14. The Curious Case of the Ghost and the Bathtime

It would have been nice for Sam to say that she attacked the bathtub ghost in the same ninja-like precision she’d attacked Danny. Unfortunately, a random bout of clumsiness struck her (she’d blame it on her husband, coordination had never been his strong suit), causing her to misfire the Fenton blaster at the ceiling. The recoil from the blast sent her flying into Danny, and they both slid backwards, and with a crash and a splash, fell back into the bathtub. 

The bathtub ghost howled, and forcefully thrust its moldy gloved hands into the air, the mist thickening. Then the showerhead above the tub sputtered on, spraying icy cold water all over them. Sam shot out of the bathtub, reeling, while Danny just shook his head and grinned, changing back into his ghost form.

“Nothing like a cold shower to cleanse the senses!” He remarked, eyes glowing green readily. His fist glowed.

“WAIT! Do you want to destroy the entire bathroom?” Sam yelled. 

Danny scowled. “NO...” He ducked an irritated swat from the ghost. “But how are we supposed to get this guy then?” Sam held up the thermos and tapped its side with a metallic clunk.

Before it flew out of her hand from a well-aimed blast from the bathtub ghost. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” She groaned, it was too dark to really see where it had landed, and after a quick test of the light switch, the power was out. Stupid ghosts affecting electricity. Seeing her dismay, Danny shrugged. 

“I guess we’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way!” A brief pause. “Actually it’s not really old-fashioned, but you know what I mean!” 

_ Yes, but I don’t  _ like  _ what it means… _ Sam thought.

\--------

Jackson heard a yell from the bathroom across the hall. Then a crash. Then some more yelling. Jackson wanted to be concerned, but he knew it was probably just some of his dad’s clumsiness and his mom reprimanding him for it. 

Anyway, he had important matters to take care of.

“I knight thee Sir Pants A Lot of Fluffy Carpet Kingdom!” He tapped a toy sword on each shoulder of one of Lily’s stuffed animals. It was a monkey with a banana yellow hat and pants. “Now we must embark on our noble quest: to end all the evils of Marbledom!” He was referring to the arrangement of multi-colored marbles at the far corner of the bedroom, where more of Lily’s stuffed animals lay “dead” on their backs from slipping on the marbles. 

“Goraine!” This was a King Kong figurine. “Purrcival!” One of Lily’s stuffed kitties. He named all the other knights of the Fluffy Carpet and arranged them to go on their quest.

Sure, he was probably too old for playing like this, but sometimes algebra required creative means for a brain break. 

\--------------

Down came another one of Danny fists. The bathtub ghost moaned from the blow. He crashed through the curtains, sprawling at Sam’s feet. As he floated upright again, Sam blasted him square in the back, because she knew she wouldn’t miss.

_ “RUBADUBDUB!!!” _ The ghost held his glowing hand aloft, and the cabinets exploded with toiletries. A bar of soap hit Danny in the forehead so forcefully he keeled over. Sam couldn’t help but laugh, until she was pelted with toilet paper.  _ Ooh, you picked the wrong girl to pelt with toilet paper, buddy. _ She was not reliving the shame of high school ever again. 

“Eat this, bath toy!” Sam bellowed, slugging him right in the middle of his gut with the Fenton blaster firing rapidly. In a dizzy spiral, the ghost sighed and sluggishly floated in a corner of the bathroom to recover. Then something hard brushed Sam’s foot.  _ Perfect. _

Narrowing her eyes she cocked the end of the thermos toward the defeated ghost, more powerful than any gun. To her surprise, the ghost weakly held up its hand, moaning pitifully in somewhat understandable speech.

_ “Please…”  _ It moaned.  _ “Don’t send back. Not clean no more…”  _ Sam knew better than to let him stay out of the thermos for even an extra second. But as the thermos consumed him in its bright blue beam, Sam couldn’t help but feel slightly regretful. Though most ghosts were extremely manipulative (they’d fallen for tricks of false repentance more times than she could count), this one had seemed especially genuine. 

Walking over to Danny, who was still reeling from the airborne bar of soap against the wall, she placed the thermos on a shelf and helped him up. It seemed like there was some bruising above his right eye. Who knew a bar of soap could be so dangerous?

Danny opened his eyes, which flitted back and forth from Sam to the thermos. “Uh…” He was either still incoherent or just didn’t know what to say. “Good job.” 

Sam innocently flipped her short dark hair out of her face. “Thanks. You know who you kind of sounded like back there?”

“Who?” Danny’s voice was devoid of any worry.  _ Perfect. _

“Your dad.”

Danny paled to a deathly shade for someone who was technically halfway there. “Oh my god...Really? Shit…” 

“Not really, just how you were so eager to fight that ‘ghostly scum.’” Sam laughed, as she reassured him.

“I never called him ‘ghostly scum!’” Danny protested, blushing. Sam knew that, but did he? Winking, she sashayed out of the bathroom, leaving the thermos and the ravaged bathroom for her husband to take care of.

Sam had taken care of enough tonight. 

\-----------

A relatively short time later, Sam was sipping tea in the dark kitchen. It was almost midnight. She used to do this all the time, but lately she’d been so exhausted from work and life in general she would just collapse into bed and fall fast asleep. Yet now, a minor case of insomnia was preventing her from snuggling under the covers. There were just a lot of thoughts filling up her head. 

As another warm sip passed her lips, Danny dropped through the ceiling and landed next to her. She was a little startled, but not enough to scream or anything. In reality, she was actually getting used to it again: the whole ghost thing. It felt weird, yet kind of good. 

She turned, smiling slightly, to the glowing figure beside her. “You know what else I noticed? You still have a beard in your ghost form.”

Danny sighed, smiling dejectedly. “Yeah, I went ghost before I shaved it so...it kinda stuck.”

“It looks cute.” Sam admitted, letting herself sound a little girly, just this once. “So…How was your night?”

Danny leaned back on the counter, at ease now that she’d changed the subject. “Not too bad. But there was a brief moment- very brief- that I felt like I was being attacked.” 

“Really?” Sam replied in mock surprise. Then she grew serious. “I meant the search for the ghost portal.” 

Danny sobered. “Oh right. That.” His eyes darted around as he pondered what to say. “Long story short, we didn’t find anything.”

“Nothing? Not even any clues?”

“Nope. We’ll have to keep searching-” He was interrupted by a sour look from Sam. “All of us.” 

Sam nodded, satisfied, then sighed. “But we need to limit it to only a couple times a week. There’s enough stress as it is.” 

\-----------

Jackson lay curled on his side in bed. Then he propped himself up on one elbow, wincing. His stomach hurt. He used to get bad stomach aches all the time when he was little, but resurgence of that pain was a rare occurrence. 

Groaning softly, he rolled over to his other side, sheets rustling. His eyes felt dark with all the thoughts that had been running through his head all those sleepless hours. He wanted to get up. He wanted to tell his parents that he felt sick. But he was afraid. They were probably already asleep. They wouldn’t be very happy to be woken up with his little tummy ache. He might get yelled at in their tired irritableness. 

Why did this always happen? Here he lay, swallowed up in his very own pain, lonelier than the darkest corners of the universe. Even his star stickers that normally glowed brightly on his ceiling had grown faint, as if they were as far away as the real things. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to somehow find his way to them, away from these dark thoughts. He tried to make them unreal. 

Finally he opened his eyes, knowing any effort would be fruitless. Suddenly he could no longer bear to stay in bed. He could be quiet. He’d just walk downstairs and walk it off. Maybe get some water. Some air.

Slinking in the darkness, his bare feet barely touching the cold floor, he felt better. Like a warrior of the night, he lightly stepped down each stair, silent as darkness itself. His stomach ache was only a faint probing in the back of his mind now. He needed to use the strategy of losing himself to imagination more often. 

He came to the bottom of the stairs, less careful now that the novelty of being ninja-like had worn off. Then he froze when he heard his mom’s voice from the kitchen. 

Ninja-mode reactivated. It shouldn’t have been so surprising that she’d be downstairs so late - parents could do whatever they wanted. Yet Jackson could sense there was something odd, something wrong. There was his mom’s voice, but he thought he could also make out the mumblings of another voice. It had a strange echo, as if it were far away. It also sounded familiar, but Jackson needed to get closer before he could be sure. 

Pressed against the wall, he scooted closer. Was that faint glow coming from the kitchen? None of the lights were on. Jackson started to shiver a little in his T-shirt and shorts. It was unnaturally cold. He began to seize up with terror, but he forced himself to keep creeping forward. His mom was in there talking to  _ someone, _ but was silent now. There was no sign of panic. So he shouldn’t be afraid, right? 

He wished he felt braver. Still, here he was, shaking, when he didn’t even know if there was any danger.

_ Why? Why do I have to be such a mess on the inside? Why can’t I just feel normal for once?  _ All he wanted was to have a little control over his emotions, instead of falling into a sink hole of self deprecation in bed every night. One second he’s flying high as a spy, a ninja in the night, in control, the next, he breaks down when he’s simply walking into the kitchen to be with his mom. He’s hearing things. 

_ And I’m getting worked up again. Frick.  _

\---------------------

It was a nice silent moment between them. Usually Sam had to fill silence with words because she felt awkward when no one was saying anything. She and Danny were alike that way, they had inept social skills by choice or just because they simply were born that way. But this moment was a rarity: a true beauty, in Sam’s unqualified opinion.

She smiled at Danny, who smiled gently back. Then his green eyes widened, and before she could ask him anything, he vanished. 

“Wha-” Sam turned around, looking around the room in confusion. Then she spotted Jackson, who had just appeared from around the corner, which was the miniature hallway that led from the staircase and front of the house to the kitchen.

_ Well, that was close. Good call, Danny.  _ She rose from leaning against the table and walked over to the fridge. “Couldn’t sleep?” She filled a cup with water. “Need some water?” 

Jackson accepted the water, only taking a small sip before answering. “Yeah.” He hesitated briefly, looking down at the wooden floor. “I thought I heard someone else out here.” 

Sam thought quickly, an impression feat after midnight. “Your dad was out here a second ago. You must have just missed him.” 

“But it didn’t  _ sound  _ like him. His voice was all... _ weird _ or something.” 

Welp. Guess that was the wrong thing to say. It wasn’t that hard to recognize a ghost’s voice. 

“Um…”  _ Come on excuse generator, work your magic…  _ “Uh, it sounded normal to me.”  _ Yaass. Wicked excuse man. He’s sure to call BS on that one. _

“I guess the sound got...muffled or something…” Jackson mumbled, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Sam could barely restrain a sigh of relief, and a guilty one at that.  _ I mean, come on! Lying to your son! Definitely should feel guilty.  _

She put an arm around him and began to lead him back to bed. “Let’s go. We both need some sleep.” Jackson allowed himself to be herded out of the kitchen, but before they could go upstairs, Jackson froze, eyes widening.

With a wet gag, he threw up all over the stairs.

It really smelled bad- ugh, and there was that hint of Cheetos- and Sam did not feel like cleaning it up. But she knew she’d be stuck with it. As always. Danny was probably already in bed aslee-

“I’ll take care of it. Just get him to bed.” Whispered a voice by her ear, startling her. She glanced in its direction, but of course its source was invisible. But she gave a weak, grateful smile and stepped around the vomit. 

Soon Jackson was finally passed in bed, finally at peace. Hopefully he wouldn’t be up all night puking his guts out, but only time could tell. However, surprising as it was, Sam had to admit this day hadn’t been so bad after all. Danny came through in the end, didn’t he? She was expecting to have to do all the work cleaning up Jackson’s mess, not mention not even being thanked for doing most of the work for catching that stupid bathtub ghost, and to be extremely angry at her husband all day tomorrow.

She was glad how things turned out.

Danny, on the other hand, wasn’t too keen on cleaning up some barf. He stared at the sticky, smelly mix of body fluid and partially digested food in disgust for a moment, then his eyes brightened with inspiration. 

Igniting a ghostly flame in one palm, he torched the mess on the stairs for a few seconds. The stairs crackled a little bit, but when he withdrew the flames back into his hand, nothing was left except for some ashes. In other words, it was clean! He tried to extinguish the fire in his hand, but it refused to go out. Frowning, he tried again, and this time it complied.

_ Must still be getting into the groove of things, _ He reassured himself. With that, he wiped the stairs with a cleaner for good measure, and went to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the end of this episode! As you may or may not have noticed, I added some character development for Jackson. I felt like it was a little random, but I think with his parents' busyness they haven't really noticed that Jackson might be going through something internally. Let me know what you think!  
> \- MistFlame54


	15. E4: Power Surge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny's powers are going haywire, so he must seek the help of an old member of Team Phantom to help get them back under control.

Do you ever wake in the morning like you’re about to burst at the seams? Like an unexplainable surge of vitality making you fly about the room as if you were crackling with electricity? Yeah me neither. But that’s how Danny felt when he woke up that morning. 

As soon as his alarm went off, Danny sprang out of bed like he was intoxicated with caffeine (or some other non-illegal, stimulating drug). He came up so hard he jolted Sam awake. Her immediate response was to slap him, and he yelped with pain before readily apologizing.   


“S-sorry, Sam! Just feeling a little peppy this morning!”

Sam groaned and rolled back over. “Ugh...Danny… you sound so....cheerful. Please stop.” Then she turned back towards him, eyes widening. “And did you just say  _ peppy _ ?”

Danny simply shrugged in response, grinning like an idiot. He sauntered out of the bedroom, with such a bounce in his step he felt like he was ten years old again. Wherever this newfound energy was coming from, he might as well enjoy it. 

Starting to walk down to Jackson’s room, he turned on a heel and headed in the opposite direction.  _ That’s right. Jackson threw up last night. Which probably means he wouldn’t be going to school today. _ So he just got ready for the day downstairs. Alone, but that was fine. Especially when for some weird reason, when he went to sit and eat breakfast, he fell through the chair. Scratching his head, he regarded the chair suspiciously. 

Usually he had a decent grasp on his intangibility; but then again he could just be having an off morning. Then he realized, as he grabbed his spoon, that he was facing another dilemma. He scooped up the cereal into his spoon, then, with an odd buzzing sensation, making his hand feel numb, the spoon turned intangible, and with a sploosh, the cereal fell back into the bowl. He tried again, frowning, but this time, only his hand turned intangible, and with a clang, the entire spoon fell into the bowl. Sighing dejectedly, he lightly dabbed at the mess on the table with a napkin.

After the tenth time watching his cereal splash back into the bowl, Sam came downstairs, following Lily, who was sliding down each stair on her butt, making progress slow. 

Sam couldn’t help but smirk at her now melancholy husband. “What happened to ‘feeling peppy?’” 

Danny didn’t need to say anything but grumpily try to take a spoonful of cereal, until once again the spoon took on the consistency of air and the cereal returned to its soggy home. 

“Well that’s not good.” Sam commented dryly, grabbing three bananas from the cabinet. She handed them each to Lily and Danny in turn, saving the last for herself. Taking a large bite, she gestured encouragingly to Danny’s banana. He eyed warily, as if it were going to disappear or start floating or something. Sam nodded toward it again, with a bemused smile, as it to say,  _ It couldn’t hurt to try. _

Little by little, he peeled the banana. Eyes locked with Sam’s, he slowly took a bite. He was pleasantly surprised. “It’s...good.” 

“It’s a banana. Of course it’s good.” Was Sam’s confident response. Sitting across from Danny, she leaned on one elbow, slightly concerned. “Do you think you should skip work today? I mean, if that happened during class-” She gestured toward the abandoned cereal… “-It would be better to stay home.”

Danny shook his head, a little too quickly, taking another bite of banana. “No, it’ll be fine. I mean… it’s probably just some fluke. It’s early, you know. It’ll pass.” 

“But it could work. I’d be missing work anyway staying home with Jackson, but it could be you instead.”

“Seriously. I’m good. I mean, I’m fine. I don’t want to call in on such short notice. They’re pretty strict about that.” 

Sam sighed dramatically and fell back into her chair. Danny sensed trouble brewing.  _ Great. Alas, the angsty goth face returns… _

“Right. So you’re just leaving me stuck at home again.” Sam growled, glaring at him dangerously. Suddenly the distance between them at the table didn’t seem far enough. 

“Sam… I’m not  _ trying  _ to put you in that ‘stay-at-home-mom’ stereotype.” He protested, trying to keep his tone light. But she wasn’t buying his act. Not in the least. 

“But that’s exactly what you’re doing!” She replied, rising furiously from the table and pacing aimlessly around the table. “It’s not exactly easy for me to take off work on such short notice either! But lately it seems like you’re the one who gets off free while I’m stuck doing all the housework all the time!” She paused. “Not that I resent being a mother… But there needs to be a little more equality around here!”

Danny knew things would be a lot easier if he just admitted  _ why  _ he felt the way he did instead of making excuses. Then Sam wouldn’t be set off because he actually had a legitimate reason.

He was glad at least one of them in these situations usually had the capacity to remain calm. 

“I just didn’t want to risk…” He thought the phrase over, while Sam listened, still irritatedly pacing. “I didn’t want to accidentally have something go wrong with my powers while Jackson was around.” 

“And that’s better than in front of an entire classroom of students?” Sam was indignant, but Danny could sense her anger was starting to deflate. But so was his justification. Sam had made a very good point. Jackson would probably be spending the day in bed. And it was the more intelligent decision. In his teenage years, there were definitely some unintelligent decisions he’d made concerning his powers that he came close to regretting. 

_ Well darn, I want to make the intelligent decision for once. Otherwise this might be a day of chaos as I try to hide glitching powers from three periods of teenagers.  _

He smiled up at Sam. “You know what? Maybe I should stay home with Jackson today.”

Sam froze, mid-retort, lavender eyes wide with shock. “Wha-what?” She tilted her head. “Are you feeling okay? You’re actually agreeing with me. Without arguing.” 

Danny shrugged helplessly. “What can I say? You’re right.” 

Lily, who had been silent until now, banged her fists on the table impatiently. “ExCUSE me! I hungry over here!” Her parents glanced back at her, and burst into laughter. Lily didn’t see what was so funny. She was just hungry. She impatiently tapped her fingers on the table, which was hard because they weren’t very coordinated. 

And as an afterthought, Lily wondered how her dad did that dope magic trick with the cereal. She wondered if she could learn to do that, too. 

\---------

Tony really  _ did  _ try when there were substitutes. Teachers, he meant. But when you had no idea what you were doing on a design software that your  _ teacher  _ was supposed to be teaching you how to use that day, well, there was only so much one could do. Maybe he’d gotten his slacker reputation because he gave up too easily. But at least he tried a little. Everyone in the class had the ancient school computers up and running, and the whirring of each CPU created a buzzing noise that filled up the classroom and made his head hurt. 

He’d managed to make a cube, but that was only #1 on the worksheet the substitute had handed out. With a loud sigh, he pushed the paper to the side, and glanced around the classroom to see how the rest of his fellow students were faring. 

Eyes were glued to computer screens. Keys clacked and clunked, and mouses clicked and scraped across desks while students drew lines and dragged shapes into existence. They all had this in the bag. Nerds. 

Tony put his head down in defeat. Stupid Mr. Felton for abandoning them today. 

“Haymansh, avin turshuble thoo?” Inquired a voice behind him. Tony’s head popped up, but only because he could not possibly begin to understand what had been said.

“What?”

“He said, ‘Hey man, having trouble too?’” Clarified the kid beside him, instinctively flipping his head to get his greasy black hair out of his face. Tony’s skin crawled. Half the kids in these classes were all nerds in need of either a haircut or a good shower, or both. But as Khai, a good friend and helper when the classwork got hard, was also inconveniently absent, Tony was left with no choice but to interact with these losers.

“Wow, so you understand him?” Maybe that wasn’t the best question to start with when talking to near strangers, but currently he was low on conversation starters. 

But the kid was unfazed. “Yeah. I mean, I had braces for years, so I can kinda translate.” The kid in question gave a toothy smile, revealing atrocious braces. The silver kind too, that looked like they were keeping your mouth captive in some high-security prison. 

“Wow.” Tony wasn’t sure what else to say. This was getting awkward. For him, anyway, but he kept pushing on. Other quiet conversations were going on around the classroom. Most likely no one would hear him failing in this corner. “So, uh, how you doing, you know, on this classwork?”

“Shabolushey ohidesha,” which the translator immediately repeated: “Absolutely no idea.”

Tony couldn’t believe his luck. “No shit, bro! I mean, come on, how are we supposed to know this stuff?”

“Shnoideshaman,” the kid replied, giving Tony a fist bump. Sure, it was unlucky that the people closest to him had no idea what they were doing either, but at least he wasn’t the only one. All in all, Tony felt much more at ease than he had a few seconds ago. Idly chatting the classtime away, Tony came to know the practically incomprehensible kid as Christian, and his translator as Henry. Yet, the conversation shifted in such a way that Tony should have seen coming.

“Sho, ishit true youshan Leshlie ara shing?” Christian asked, half-heartedly clicking his mouse on a random button. Suddenly his cube on the screen turned neon green, with blinking red dashes on all its vertices, so he was distracted.

“He said, ‘So, is it true you and Leslie are a thing,’” Henry translated, oblivious while Christian frantically clicked a few more icons, moaning with despair. 

_ Holy Smokes.  _ “Um, no. Why does everyone keep saying that?” He added with annoyance. If even kids he’d never known existed knew this gossip, it must be getting pretty bad. Nervously he glanced across the room to where Nick was working. Leslie’s current boyfriend hadn’t looked over, so they were safe. For now. 

“Becaush shomany peoplsh talkshabout sheeinyoushguysh togeda.” Christian replied, after finally deleting the mess on his screen.

“‘Because so many people talk about seeing you guys together,’” Echoed Henry. 

“I do  _ NOT _ even go near her!” Tony protested furiously in a low voice. “All these rumors- they fake. They harm people. And all they do is make Nick wanna kick my ass.” 

Christian raised his hands in a helpless gesture. “I’m jusht shayin what I hear.” Tony shook his head at Henry, who was opening his mouth to translate. He understood that one. 

There was tense silence that was interrupted by a loud bang on the door. The substitute, who had been reading one of those romance novels you bought at the dollar store, jumped out her skin before quickly getting to her feet and answering it. 

“Hut, hut, HIKE!” Bellowed a teenage boy’s voice, one that hadn’t reached puberty. The substitute eyed the extremely short arrival with confusion, before she was tackled to the ground. The poor lady didn’t even have any time to scream before hitting the floor. Many of the students winced. She’d probably wake with a minor headache, at worst a concussion.

The small but mighty football player toddled further into the room, so Tony could get a better look. He certainly wasn’t a  _ normal  _ football player. No one roams the hallways tackling people. Or doors. That’s probably where the bang come from. And no normal football player had skin the color of spoiled milk, floated at least a foot off the ground, or had glowing red eyes!

About the time Tony was realizing something was extremely off, the rest of his fellow classmates were realizing more or less the same thing. 

“Oh my god. OH MY GOD IT’S A FREAKIN’ GHOST! Ohhhh my goddd…” Of course that was Nick. He climbed up on top of his chair like a lady frightened of a mouse, quaking in fear.  _ Like that would help much, _ Tony thought with a smirk. Ghosts can fly. 

Other students backed away from the ghost, barely daring to make any noise or even breathe. Everyone was silently freaking out. Tony was, too, but he also felt like he had to do something. He looked behind him toward Christian and Henry, unsure if he was seeking some sort of encouragement from them. Eyes still fixed on the two of them, Tony took a step closer to the ghost.

Henry’s eyes were practically bugging out of his head, and Christian was shaking his head frantically. Tony looked away, focusing on the spirit. He didn’t know what he was doing. Why was he doing this? It wasn’t too late to back down.

In a flash, the ghost’s head swiveled to face Tony. It’s red eyes blazed from deep within the shadows of the football helmet, which was way too large for its head, which was also wreathed in shadow. If Tony had to guess, its head probably wasn’t the prettiest sight, if he had anything to go by with the state of its rotten-looking skin.

A collective gasp of horror from the edges of the classroom. The ghost had floated a few inches closer. It regarded Tony with an almost questioning look in its eyes. 

Tony gulped nervously before saying in a friendly tone, “H-hey, buddy, what play you practicing?” The air crackled with anticipation while the ghost seemed to ponder these words.

“Coach said we need to practice this play until the play is perfect.” The ghost’s monotone voice sent shivers up Tony’s spine. “So I played and played, but it still wasn’t perfect,” His voice didn’t have the slightest quaver of anger. Just emptiness, like the empty red orbs that held Tony captive.

“Hut!” The tiny football player crouched, face inches from Tony’s. Golden light, humming with energy, surrounded the ghost, and Tony knew that couldn’t mean anything good.  _ Me and my big mouth, _ he thought bitterly. Why did he always have to speak up when he could have left well enough alone? Now he was going to be tackled to death by a tiny football player ghost. Squeezing his eyes shut, he prayed for one last miracle.

If he had to die, maybe the ghost could at least get his plays right.

“HIKE!”

Tony felt the heat of the energy on his forehead, then it vanished. Blinking open his eyes, he saw the ghost vanish in a green swirl of light before the light vanished as well. At first he thought it was an angel. 

Clothed in white, having rescued him, vanquishing his attack in a flash of light, yet, as his eyes regained proper vision, he realized this was not the case. Around him, students cautiously came out from hiding to behold this heroic figure.

“Hey, it's a motocross racer!” Exclaimed one stupid kid in the back. Probably a nerd. Though Tony had to admit, there was some resemblance.

Large helmet obscuring the face, white form-fitting suit, complete with a faint logo in black that he couldn’t quite make out. Before he could thank his rescuer, however, the suited figure handed him a small card and walked out the door.

“Wha- Hey! Wait!” Tony scrambled to his feet in pursuit, followed by a couple more kids, but when he slid out into the hallway, he skidded to a halt, and several people ran into his back. 

They were gone. Tony finally thought to look at the card. It was entirely black, with a fancy white script.

_ Courtesy of W.H. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter full of goth angst, glitchy powers, dope magic tricks with cereal, and a teenager facilitating a side plot. Thanks for reading!


	16. A Disposition As Dry As Toast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! Just a heads up... I'm a little behind, so I'm not sure if the next chapter will be posted in a week's time or two weeks' time. But I haven't stopped writing! Just been too busy to write a substantial chapter. 
> 
> Also Note to Self: What is this title, exactly? Hm?

Friends are there for you, even in the messiest of times. If they are a true friend, they’ll have to deal with however much of that mess they throw your way. 

Tucker liked to consider himself one of those friends, but this was getting ridiculous. 

The past few days had already been stressful enough: that week he’d flown to Nevada for various tiresome meetings about disadvantaged schools lacking the “proper technology to provide students with an adequate education.” Which was an important issue, but not when one is running on less than two hours of sleep. 

Then he flew back yesterday only to find that the kindly old man who usually cleaned his office was out sick (mental note, remind secretary to send him a get well soon card). The man who replaced him had a fondness for natural cleaners and air fresheners, and that fondness was saturated into his rugs, the walls, the air was literally infused with the herby scent of lavender and tea tree oil. 

It was awful. Oh how he missed those synthetic cleaners, upon which every breath seemed to clean his very insides with their chemical disinfection. 

He was in the office now, and in memory of those scents he inhaled deeply, but coughed when the unfamiliar smells permeated his nostrils. Sniffling dramatically, he pulled his collar over his nose and collapsed into his chair. Then immediately sprang up as if stung. It was still wet! Upon testing the carpet with a suspicious finger, he found it to be damp as well. The injustice!

His only comfort was in technology, but even that was starting to become a burden. He had two phones: one specifically for business and one for leisure. Even so, the two categories he’d threshed out with rigidity were starting to overlap. Checking his business phone, there was nothing new; he’d sent all his obligations to Lucien, his secretary. Taking a stressed breath, he put the business phone back into its special briefcase and pulled his leisure phone out of his pocket. 

He’d been needing it a lot lately. The screen was filled with texts and emails, none of which were immediately important. Yet, one notification  _ had  _ to catch his eye.

Just to be sure, he opened it and read all the details it gave him, and his anxious expression changed into a grim smile.  _ Only for you, Danny.  _ He had to go.

With a sigh, he pulled on his coat, which was black with a cozy fur lining on the inside, and walked out where his secretary was sipping Chai tea and busily plugging numbers into a computer. 

Lucien was technically a paid intern, but worked hard, and to be honest, Tucker enjoyed having the young undergrad around to liven the boring daily routine of the congressional offices.

Lucien immediately looked up curiously at Tucker’s hasty departure. “Where are you going so early?” 

Tucker sighed, eyes darting down to look at his phone screen again. “One of my  _ very  _ good friends needs my help.” Lucien nodded, with devout interest in Tucker’s every word. “You know, I honestly don’t know how I do it all sometimes, Lucien. I’m really getting tired of devoting all my time and energy to this Congressional routine. I want to focus on more important things.” 

“I understand, Representative!” Was Lucien’s enthusiastic response, in a tone with just the right amount of pity and encouragement. 

Tucker smiled cordially in return and waved goodbye, while silently going through in his tired mind how exactly he was going to tackle cleaning up this next mess. 

\---------------------------

Danny knew that there was probably something seriously wrong when he looked in the bathroom mirror and his eyes wouldn’t stop glowing green. He kept blinking, silently praying they’d turn their normal blue again, but every time he’d be betrayed by the sight of green.

Finding no better option, he finally decided to just wear some sunglasses and hope Jackson didn’t think his dad was a lunatic when he brought his breakfast upstairs.

Jackson was awake, but he stared dead-faced at the ceiling, numb to the world. Danny was slightly disturbed. He had never seen such a world-weary expression like that on his son’s face. He announced his presence with a clearing of the throat, then he launched into a dramatic impromptu speech.

“Presenting: world’s coolest dad, serving the one and only post-puke breakfast of exTREMely dry toast!” He pantomimed a cheering crowd, dramatically lowering the plate onto Jackson’s stomach. 

Not bothering to sit up, Jackson’s head flopped to the side, and he regarded his dad unsmiling. “Why are you wearing sunglasses?”

_ So you don’t see the dramatic change my eye color has undergone… _ ”Hey, it’s all part of the ‘cool dad’ thing I was doing back there. Just trying to cheer you up.” 

Jackson finally sat up and gingerly picked up his toast by one corner, as if it was a crumpled tissue someone left on the floor. “You can only be so cheerful when you feel really sick  _ and  _ you’re missing two tests.” But then he met eyes with his dad. “But thanks. Also, I thought it would be mom who’d be staying home, since it's harder to skip teaching than an ad designer’s job, right?” 

“It’s not ‘harder.’” Danny protested, adjusting his sunglasses unconsciously. He kneeled at the side of the bed. “I’m glad I’m staying home today. We both needed a break, right?” He gently tousled Jackson’s hair, which was rewarded with a small smile.

“Hey, stop, you’re messing up my hair.”

“What? This lion’s mane? I don’t see any hair.” Danny reached behind him dramatically. “But I do see the sweetest quencher of thirst, the silver fountain of life: water!” With that declaration, he revealed the glass of water he’d been concealing behind his back and placed it on Jackson’s nightstand. Jackson rolled his eyes, still smiling, more out of pity for his dad’s pathetic sense of humor than anything. Yet his entire face had brightened, his pale face glowing with a grin that had now reached his eyes. 

He went to take a meager bite of toast, when he sniffed the air, face suddenly darkening with concern. “Is something burning?”

Danny looked around, confused, until he saw a trail of smoke from the nightstand. His hand had been resting on one of the drawers, but now it was very busy in its attempt to light the nightstand on fire. One glance and he saw his palm lit with a green flame, and cursing internally, he swiftly hid it behind his back while silently begging it to go out.

“M-must be the toast.” He finally replied after what seemed an eternity. He expected Jackson to immediately argue, but he just shrugged and bit into the toast, wrinkling his nose at its dryness.

“Can you get me a banana later?” Jackson asked, painfully swallowing the bite of toast. 

“Yeah! Yeah. Of course.” Danny hurriedly stood up to leave, but remembered his flaming hand, so he started backing out awkwardly. 

Jackson looked at him oddly, and as his dad exited, he remembered the glass of water. Picking it up, it felt strangely cold, and tapping the water’s surface with one finger, he discovered it was completely frozen. Weird. Maybe it was left in the freezer or something, and his dad forgot to check if it was melted or not.

But that was pretty mindless, even for his dad. Jackson couldn’t help but feel something had really been off about his dad lately. Sure, he was still the same, great, loving “world’s coolest dad,” but he seemed more distant. Like he was hiding something. 

Contemplatively, Jackson took another bite of the toast. It was disgusting, as toast almost always is without being smothered with butter or jelly. After another painful swallow, Jackson took another bite.

It was still disgusting. Still he chewed away, utterly confused. 

_ Why am I even eating this? _

\---------------

Near the end of the day, a knock came at the door, sharp and impatient. Danny hurried to answer, hoping his hand wouldn’t phase through the doorknob.

It didn’t. It just froze instead.

“Get yourself together!” He harshly whispered.  _ I almost said  _ chill _ , but that’s exactly what it’s doing. _

With his other hand, which was still warm, he melted the ice encasing the doorknob and jerked it open, before he melted the knob as well. 

Tucker stood there, without a trace of awkwardness or even friendliness, and entered before even being invited. Completely by chance Tucker’s arm brushed Danny’s cold hand, and they both stared down, Danny in embarrassment, Tucker with cool observation, as frost formed on his sleeve.

Not sure what else to say as his friend was really acting oddly right now, Danny mumbled, “Sorry,” putting his inconvenient hands behind his back. A sharp hiss followed, and through narrowed eyes, Tucker simply stared at Danny, who continued to grin more awkwardly while rocking back and forth on his feet. 

“Uncle Tuck?” Exclaimed Lily from the couch, where she’d been playing a puzzle game on her tablet. She waved happily, and both men turned around quickly.

“Hi honey!” Tucker’s voice was sugar and honey, nothing but sweetness for the unsuspecting three-year-old. “Why don’t you finish your game and you can show it to Uncle Tuck in a little while, okay?” Lily nodded, and her head immediately dipped back to the screen. Tucker swiftly turned back to Danny, and he leaned forward, his voice a harsh whisper. Danny leaned back.

“While I appreciate your utilization of technology to keep her distracted, don’t you think you’re being a little careless? You could have at least sent her to daycare.” 

“I’ve got it...under control.” He wished he could sound a little more confident. And the loud  _ crack _ of interacting fire and ice coming from behind him wasn’t making him any more convincing. 

“Under control, huh?” Tucker replied coolly, then snatched the sunglasses off Danny’s face before he could stop him. “Ah ha! Explain this- wait…” His hard-set face slackened in surprise. “Oh. I thought they’d be green. They’re normal.”

“Really? That’s new.” Danny responded nastily. Tucker blinked, then jumped. Simultaneously Danny’s eyes felt hot, just like they had when he was looking in the mirror earlier. 

He shoved the sunglasses back onto Danny’s face, while Danny readjusted them irritatedly. “Well, they’re green again. Proving my point along with  _ this  _ evidence-” Yet another object was shoved into his face: Tucker’s phone, the newest model of its brand, screen blinking with graphs and numbers. “The readings from your chip are going crazy! Just look at these-”

Now it was Danny’s turn to get angry. “Oh, so the chip doesn’t just tell you when I go gho- er, change,” He amended after a quick glance at Lily, “In fact, it probably tells you a  _ lot  _ more than I’m comfortable with you knowing.” 

Tucker let out a frustrated huff of air. “Without that chip, Danny, I wouldn’t have come all this way, which, might I add, was very much OUT of my way, to  _ help _ you. And sure, it doesn’t seem like I’m helping, which is fine with me, but your-” He also glanced briefly at Lily, lowering his voice. “-your powers are fluctuating in a very unsettling way. You are literally  _ bursting _ with unchannelled energy that is dying to come out. Already it's attempting to get out any way it can, but if allowed to continue without aid-” Tucker opened his mouth to answer his question, then closed it thinking the better of it. No need to cause a panic. 

But Danny was already starting to panic. “Please tell me I’m not going to explode or something,” he stammered. 

Tucker shook his head, relaxing slightly. “No, not exploding, thank goodness. But you could cause a lot more damage than freezing flannel shirts.” He said, holding up his arm, with its still-frozen sleeve. “However, I did call for some back-up, because the way to fix you... might take some time, and I needed the extra help.” Opening the door, Danny gaped in shock, then annoyance.

Jazz stood silhouetted in the doorway, and removed her round dark sunglasses, saying cheerfully, “So, I heard you were having some… power trouble?”


	17. Welcome To The Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter/part/whatever you call it is UP! (whew) Again, thanks for all the reads and kudos <3 Y'all are amazing! (yes I said y'all my state is technically southern so I'm allowed)  
> I think the next part will probably be out in about two weeks. I hope you enjoy this latest piece!

Jazz continued to stand in the doorway, grinning cheekily, while Danny and Tucker stared at her, disgusted. She stood there a moment longer, then broke, snorting with laughter.

“Yeah I know, it was a long shot. Couldn’t resist. Anyway-” Breezily she glided into the living room, taking in all the furniture and charming home decor with wonder. “I have  _ not _ been here in such a long time! And you-” She spun to face Lily, who looked up from her tablet in confusion- “young lady, care to tell me your name?”

“Lily.” The three-year-old loftily answered. “Who are you?” 

Jazz smiled. “I’m your Aunt Jazz. I saw you last when you were still a baby.” 

“You have red hair.” Lily stated, then went back to her game, which was more interesting than this conversation. 

“I do!” Jazz cheerfully replied, then turned back to Danny and Tucker, not seeming to mind too much that she had lost her subject’s interest. “And how about Jackson? How’s he doing?”

“Fine.” Danny replied. Jazz examined his stony face carefully for a moment, then shrugged to herself. This was not the time or place to reprimand her brother for being so cold and distant. It was understandable. In the twelve years since Team Phantom had disbanded, Jazz had immersed herself in work: as a psychology professor at Yale and in her own research about Ghost Psychology and related topics. 

She had wanted to tell her brother exactly how she felt about all that occurred the night everything had ended: about second chances and perseverance, but she knew he didn’t want to hear it. She knew he was aware of all the thoughts that were threatening to burst out of her mind like confetti, and he made sure throughout those long twelve years to never allow her an opportunity to say more than the typical, shallow greetings and the small talk about their careers. 

It definitely hurt that he had shut her out of his life all these years, and it especially hurt now that she realized he’d gone back on what had torn them apart in the  _ first place _ and didn’t even bother to tell her. He was “going ghost again?!?” What did that even mean?

And that Tucker had to tell her, only because he needed her ghost psychology and biology expertise (among many other things) to help Danny because his powers were going haywire. Yes, she appreciated that Tucker valued her judgement and could admit to himself that they needed her, yes,  _ her _ help, but yes, she had to admit it to herself, she was a little miffed.

More like annoyed. Okay, mad. ENRAGED. Or a slight downgrade from enraged. It was a strong word. Furious would do nicely. 

_ Okay, deep breaths, Jazz, remember: time and place. _ “Alright then. Tucker, you’re good with the kids while Danny and I head out?” Tucker nodded confidently, while Danny tried not to look absolutely and totally shocked.

“What? Uh, wait a minute. I thought Jazz was- and you were- oh crap.” Danny stammered, looked back and forth between Jazz’s smug expression and Tucker’s solemn one. 

“No,  _ unfortunately _ , I am not babysitting, I’m the one who’s going to cure your… power issues. Besides, Tucker knows my niece much better than I do.” She had to include that one jibe. With a cheerful wave to Tucker, Jazz led the way out the door, her long ginger hair swinging behind her. 

Danny gave one last furious glance at Jazz, then faced Tucker, who was trying to act nonchalant, twiddling his thumbs. 

“No words, Tuck. I have no words for you right now.” 

Tucker shrugged, with a guilty glint behind his glasses. “Well, she is the country’s leading expert in her field. I think it’ll be good for you.”

Danny sighed, rubbing his temples wearily. “It seems like lately you’ve been deciding what’s ‘good for me,’ a lot.” 

Tucker grinned. “But you know I’m right. Now get going, before you really do explode.”

“Fine fine I’m leaving!” Danny growled. “Bye Lily!” Lily waved happily. Danny was halfway out the door when he spun around, alert. “Oh yeah. Jackson’s also upstairs. Home sick. Make sure you-”

“I will I will JUST GET OUT!” Tucker yelled good-naturedly, practically shoving Danny the rest of the way out. After the door slammed shut, Tucker gasped with relief, collapsed into one of the armchairs in the living room.

“Looks like it's just you and me, Lil. Oh yeah, and Jackson. But we’re the cool kids downstairs, right?”

Lily gave Tucker a thumbs up.

\-------------------------------

The car ride was silent. Jazz knew it would be, but it still felt odd. She felt like a parent who had just forbade her son from doing something he enjoyed, and now he was giving her the silent treatment. Which was immature of an adult, but Jazz kept her thoughts to herself. Justice would be served soon enough, with what she had planned. She barely could suppress a giggle of glee, she was so excited. 

After driving like this for a little more than an hour, they pulled up to a small strip mall, near Williamsburg. Among vaping stores, clothing stores, and even a comic book shop, Jazz parked in front of a storefront with dirty windows, tacky-looking posters advertising boxing matches that happened years ago, and a large red tarp with the words “LEAGER’S BOXING CLUB” in bright blue, bold lettering. 

“What are we doing here?” Danny asked, frowning at the less than pristine surroundings. The strip mall itself was nearly deserted, with the only cars being those belonging to employees. Trash littered the sidewalks, and over half the storefronts were boarded up, or had “FOR RENT” pasted over the windows. 

Jazz, meanwhile, rubbed her hands together connivingly, then turned to Danny with an eager smile. “For training of course! How else are we going to get your surging powers under control?” She gestured to the club. “I rented the entire place for a day. To tell you the truth, they were surprised to even have a client at all. Today’s their slowest day of the week. Lucky us, huh?”

Danny slouched miserably in the passenger seat and gave no response other than a sigh of despair. 

Jazz stared at her brother with a sad smile, then jerked upright and opened the car door, cutting the engine and slipping her lanyard into her purse. “Come on, let’s get inside. It’s freezing in here.” 

Danny looked at the climate control in confusion, for the heat was turned on full blast. Then his eyes widened in recognition, and, sighing again even more loudly, exited the vehicle. He didn't notice a few stray snowflakes trailing after him.

Surprisingly, the club’s interior was better than Danny expected. The room’s centerpiece was of course the boxing ring. Additionally, there were multiple punching bags hanging from the ceiling, and weights were literally stifling every shelf or any other mode of storage space. He even saw some stacked on the bulky air conditioning system. It probably got hot in there, with all the sweaty boxers and other gym goers training, filling the air with their exertion. 

Which made Danny feel slightly melancholic. He used to go to the gym all the time, a nicer one than this, sure, but it was saddening that this one was falling more and more into disuse. For some patrons, this was probably where they’d spent years of their lives training. 

His feelings were conflicted. He had contrasting memories of his old gym days, training to keep in shape while fighting ghosts with Team Phantom, and the empathy for this club, that might go out of business any week now. 

“Reminiscing much?” Jazz had caught him daydreaming. He glanced at her briefly, with a small smile.

“Yeah. It’s a shame. I bet this place used to be so popular back in the day.” Danny replied, walking up to a black punching bag.

“Well it’s only empty now because I rented for a private session.” Jazz clarified, then gave a small gasp of realization. “Right. Judging by the state of the entire mall, and the shock of the man I called, I don’t think they get much business anymore either.” 

She slipped off her jacket, and Danny noticed she was wearing one of her old sparring outfits, aquamarine, complete with the Team Phantom symbol in black on the chest. He wasn’t sure whether to feel irritated, or grateful that she was at least trying. Trying at what exactly, was hard to tell, but she was nevertheless trying. Then out of nowhere he was tossed a bundle of clothing. 

“I’m sure you didn’t really know to prepare for this, so I brought some spare workout clothes for you,” Jazz told him, while she started putting her long red hair into a neat braid. “The changing rooms are on the other side of the boxing ring.” 

After Danny returned in a t-shirt and shorts that actually fit pretty well, Jazz was in a split on the floor. She used to be able to do it quite easily, but now she was struggling not to wince. Jazz knew neither of them were as young as they used to be. And that was the sad truth neither of them would ever admit. To think that they were getting old! Never!

Jazz slowly tried to get up, and Danny watched, making an enormous effort not to laugh. Jazz noticed his amusement, and laughed sarcastically.

“Yeah yeah. Go on and laugh. Real mature.” She muttered, shifting so that she was now sitting, legs crossed. Reaching over into the large navy blue gym bag, she pulled out a silvery-colored sparring staff, twirling it experimentally before holding it out to Danny, who turned it over in his hands curiously.

“What is this?” He asked, testing it out for himself, thrusting it in the air. Jazz smiled excitedly.

“That-” She grunted, standing up, “Is my newest invention.” She grinned proudly, and Danny smiled, confusion contorting his features. He’d taken the sunglasses off, and Jazz noticed his eyes often flashed green involuntarily with each of his reactions, despite none of them having any real emotional weight. 

“Since when are you an inventor?” Danny questioned, but she could tell he was impressed. She chuckled to herself. It was just a staff...that she made, anyway,  _ so I guess it wouldn’t be wrong to feel at least a little proud of it. _

“Since…nevermind. Doesn’t matter. Let me explain to you how it works. It’s not just an ordinary sparring staff, you see…” She took the staff from him, holding it horizontally across her palms. “It’s an Energy Staff. Ghosts, as you know, are beings of pure energy. Additionally, though their actions often suggest the opposite, they are relatively stable, retaining their form, and they don’t ever have an excess amount, unless aided by some spectral energy source, like an artifact, or an-”

“Okay, Jazz, back on the topic of energy.” Danny interrupted, not rudely,  _ he was actually listening!  _ Jazz thought. “I know you’re one of the world’s leading experts on this subject, but please, try not to give a lecture.” Jazz sighed, but she knew he was right. She wasn’t in the lecture hall right now.

“Right. So,  _ you _ on the other hand, being half ghost, your physiology is different. You are energy, all humans are, but in terms of  _ spectral _ energy, you’re actively  _ generating _ it, when you’re not in ghost form. Therefore, since you haven’t gone ghost in--wow,  _ twelve years, _ right?--you have a massive storage of energy that just kinda wants to  _ burst _ out. So, this staff is going to resolve that issue by absorbing all the excess energy as we spar, but, at the same time, you’ll be learning to channel it into your movements.” 

Danny nodded thoughtfully, and Jazz’s grin grew even wider. She even dared to hope that maybe, the twelve year rift that had grown between might lessen, even a little. 

So, pulling out her portable bluetooth speaker, she began the playlist she’d made in the five minutes it took for Danny to change. 


	18. The Ghost Master and Her Padawan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IF you have a great playlist for working out or that pumps you up before a game, play it as you read this chapter! :-)  
> Thanks for reading, and feel free to comment and let me know what you think! After this comes the next 'Episode': #5. I'm thinking about using some minor OCs...

It was interesting, how working out seemed to make you forget all about your old problems, making you focus only on the task at hand: burning a certain number of calories, getting your heartrate up, or breaking your lifting record. After stretching and warming up before training, Jazz pulled out her own personalized fighting staff, taking a defensive stance a few feet away from Danny. Smiling wryly, Danny whipped his head in a quick motion to remove his uncooperative hair from obstructing his view.

Letting out a battlecry, he charged at Jazz, who smoothly dodged the attack, smacking his ankles haughtily.

“You’re rusty!” She laughed, bringing the top half of her staff over his head, but he met in with the end of his own.

“Not that rusty,” he replied, and stepping back, he spun the staff in a full arc over his head, but before he could get another hit in, his eyes flashed green, and ectorays shot out of his palms, ricocheting the staff up toward the ceiling, where it lodged in the metal rafters supporting the club’s ceiling. They both stared up at it for a moment, Danny looking flustered. Jazz, ever the patient one, stuck her own staff up into the ceiling, and using it like a crowbar, pried Danny’s staff loose, and it clattered to the ground. 

All Jazz said before getting back into a battle stance was “Remember: channel your energy into your movements.” Danny stooped to pick up the Energy Staff, clearly holding back a protest. It was supposed to be  _ absorbing  _ his excess energy, right? But he felt filled to the brim with energy as he had that morning; it hadn’t lessened at all. Still, Jazz had to know what she was doing. Despite their years of estrangement, he still trusted his older sister whole-heartedly. So-- _ focus. _

He took a defensive pose this time, beckoning Jazz to attack first with a slight nod. Jazz narrowed her teal eyes in recognition, then, with a leap rivaling the most skilled of martial arts masters, thrust her staff forward like a spear, barely giving Danny time to lean into a backbend, as she flew over him. Seizing the opportunity, he forced his staff upward, not securing a full hit. But he glanced a blow on Jazz’s leg, throwing her off balance. She still managed to land gracefully, but then Danny was upon her, parrying with his staff.

Now that he had an advantage, he cornered Jazz among some metal racks overly burdened with dumbbells. Then it happened again. His hands fizzled with energy, and, though he tried in vain to hold it back, sparks exploded from his hands, this time launching the staff straight into one of the punching bags. With surprisingly good aim for an unintentional propulsion, the staff struck the loop and chain holding up the punching bag. It crashed to the ground, splitting down the middle, with sand pouring out the now gaping hole.

After only a second’s hesitation Danny vaulted over the weight racks, horrified. Jazz, more carefully, walked around the shelves, and while she seemed a little concerned about the mess, she merely shrugged before picking up the staff.

“I can pay for that.” She commented, picking up the staff. It had splintered slightly, being made mostly of wood, but otherwise it was undamaged. “See? No harm done.” She hastily brushed the lingering grains of sand off of the staff, holding it out to her brother, who didn’t take it. “What?” 

“It’s not going to work,” Danny muttered darkly. His eyes were still blue, but had green undertones. “Why should I keep wasting my time with this when all I can do is send the staff careening into punching bags and damaging this poor club’s equipment?”

Jazz, still trying to seem at ease, continued to hold the staff out. “It’s  _ not working  _ because you’re not doing what I’ve been telling you: channeling your energy into your movements.” She told him with an impatient edge in her voice she hadn’t intended. 

Danny crossed his arms. “You keep telling me that. But you haven’t been clear on what that actually means.” Jazz wanted to facepalm. Of course! Classic egocentrism. Danny wasn’t able to get in her head. He could overshadow her--but that was beside the point. She had to convey exactly what she meant.

“Okay…” Jazz mumbled, looking around thoughtfully. “Imagine it like this. Imagine...that your excess energy is powering your movements. Charging them. Go ahead, close your eyes!” Skeptically, Danny obeyed, letting out a defeated sigh. “Now, raise your right hand.” He did. “Imagine that it’s surrounded with that energy, coursing through your veins, longing to get out. And it can- but not in the way you want it to. But, instead of coming out in violent bursts, it comes out with your movements. Now, imagine you’re punching that punching bag. But before you swing, imagine the energy within you is powering that punch. Your arm is glowing with it, but as you swing, the energy seeps out into the air, escaping much like heat does with movement, because that’s what heat is, too; energy. Every move you make, imagine the same. The energy powers it, then it leaves. Into the air.” 

Danny opened his eyes, mystified. As Jazz had been speaking, he’d felt like he’d really seen it. The energy. Green, running through his veins. But as he’d pictured swinging his arm in a punch, the green energy enveloped his arm, aiding the movement, making it stronger than before. It was just like in ghost form, using ectorays to strengthen attacks, he’d just forgotten. Then, once the movement was done, he’d watched, in his mind’s eye, the green light float off of him, into the air, out through the wall, to the atmosphere. Maybe it could really work.

He stared at the staff still in Jazz’s outstretched hand. And he took it. 

\----------

After that explanation, the sparring from that moment on ran much more smoothly. And before they knew it, the windows were darkening as the sun started to go down, probably, though it couldn’t be seen through the thick layer of gray clouds that had been blanketing the sky all day. Danny was changing into some more weather-appropriate clothing for November, while Jazz sat on the floor. But she was far from aimless, in fact, she was meditating. 

Once your heart rate slowed down, it was important to not only stretch, but relax deeply and clear your mind, letting the peace the practice created fill your being, connecting you to nature, your surroundings, knowing that you’re safe, secure, and that all is well in the soul. 

Jazz was normally a very scientific person, and was obviously skeptical when a girl from her Biochemistry class invited her to her yoga. It had been her first year at Yale, but she needed to make friends somehow, so she’d agreed. The experience had been--in short-- _enlightening._ She knew of course that yoga was physically good for the body, but carelessly, it escaped her notice the mental aspects of the exercise, along with the importance of positive affirmations, and deep relaxation. 

Now she did it all the time. Finally, she exhaled, and opened her eyes, seeing Danny standing a couple feet away, looking at her with a bemused smile.

“Were you… meditating?” He asked, seeming uncomfortable, so he started gathering their things to leave.

“You know that I meditate, or, at least, you should remember that I did. We worked together for over ten years, right?” She replied. It was a risk, hinting at the past Team Phantom, but she crossed her fingers that hours of bonding over exercise would make up for it. 

“Oh, yeah, I know.” Danny faltered. “I just didn’t know if you still...did it.” 

Jazz was quiet for a moment, thinking. “There’s a lot of things that I still do.” She said eventually, looking over at him solemnly. “But there  _ are  _ a lot of things that I don’t do anymore. You could have at least given me a call or something sometimes. I never judged you for the choice you made. I honestly might have done the same thing.”

Danny scoffed. “Yeah right. You wouldn’t have given up so easily.” But he gave her a small smile. “But yeah. Maybe I should have called you a little more often.” 

“I wouldn’t call ending Team Phantom ‘giving up.’” Jazz interjected, her blue-green eyes thoughtfully staring up at the ceiling. “It was more like ‘seeking a normal life.’ Which there isn’t anything wrong with.” She smiled back at him. “But yes, I am  _ kind of  _ happy that you’re-” She emphasized this next phrase with an excited hand gesture and the wiggling of her eyebrows: “-getting back into business, if you know what I mean.”

“Ugh, Jazz, that makes it sound like I’m doing-” But Danny was laughing, and Jazz took it even farther, trying to be even more provocative (which was mainly just wiggling her eyebrows a little more and attempting seductively to play with her hair), unsuccessfully. This only caused Danny’s laughter to increase tenfold, and soon they were both doubled over, laughing the years of distance away. 

\------

Jazz walked Danny up to the door of the house. She had to be back at Brown for a lecture the next morning, so she couldn’t really stay long. But after saying their goodbyes, Danny hesitated after turning to leave, looking back at her.

She frowned at him. “What?”

He again gave her that small smile, a twinkling in his blue eyes. “Nothing. I just never really said thanks. You’re the best, you know?”

“I know.” Jazz just couldn’t help herself. But that was Jazz. She started walking back to the car; her fantastic exit. 

“We should do this again sometime!” Danny called after her.

“Next week! Same time!” Jazz yelled back, opening her car door.

“Sounds good!”

Jazz slammed the car door shut. As she sat in the driver’s seat, she was grinning from ear to ear. She pulled the Energy Staff out of the bag on the passenger side, looking at it fondly. In reality, it hadn’t really done anything at all. It was just an ordinary--authentic--wooden sparring staff that one of her students had pawned off. But what had really mattered was the thought: that it could do what Danny believed it could: fix his energy problem. As a result, the true antidote, the energy manifestation in the mind, worked.

Jazz couldn’t wait to get this next theory published. And of _course_ spend more time with her little brother.

It was nice to have him back. 


End file.
